


things that shouldn't happen

by jay (tofupofu)



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adrian Mellon Lives, Angst, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Single Mom Bev AU, Single Parents, Sort Of, Stanley Uris Lives, Unresolved Romantic Tension, believe it or not this might not actually be done?, but like. it totally also gets resolved, not sure how to tag this bc it's super long and weird and i'm riding a mega adrenaline high rn, the turtle kicks everyone's ass a little and it's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofupofu/pseuds/jay
Summary: Things that shouldn't happen and things that do happen and things that will happen and the difference, which is love.ORBev has a kid and she makes all the difference in the world. The Turtle calls everyone out on their bullshit, and the ending is actually satisfying.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Ben Hanscom/Eddie Kaspbrak/Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, The Losers Club/The Losers Club (IT)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	things that shouldn't happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [corvidteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidteeth/gifts).



> GOD DAMN. this is a FUCKING monster. i wanted to write a single mom!bev au because of all the sweet "the other losers become insta-dads" moments and wound up with this shit. i proudly present: over 20k words of me being a philosophical jackass and everyone crying, including me.

Beverly Marsh arrived a full week early. Mike hadn’t even called her, and she certainly hadn’t called him, but there she was, standing in the library, like she hadn’t ever been gone at all.

Her eyes caught his staring at her. They looked at each other for a moment before a tiny voice cried, “Mommy! Mom, look at this one!”

Bev said, “Just a second, sweetie.” And she stepped forward, and Mike met her in the middle and they hugged for a long time, warm and firm and  _ together _ . The tiny voice broke the spell again.

“Mommy?”

“Hi, Jenny, come here,” Bev grinned, “Jenny, this is my good friend Mike. Mike, this is Jenny. Say hi!”

Jenny was a little girl, maybe nine or ten, and she looked shyly up at Mike, muttering something that could have been a greeting. Her hand was firmly in Bev’s. She was wearing a striped shirt under a pair of overalls. Her hair was pulled back into ponytails, and she would have been a striking image of her mom if her hair was red. It was, instead, a mousy brown, but her eyes were a carbon copy of Bev’s.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you,” Mike said, crouching down. He’d talked to so many kids before, it was almost like second nature at this point. “Your mom and I grew up together here. Do you like to read?”

She nodded, giving him a little smile. She was holding  _ Matilda _ .

“That’s a fantastic book. Do you want to borrow it so your mom and I can catch up upstairs?” He shot Bev a look, and she shot him back a smile. Jenny’s eyes widened.

“Do you  _ live _ there?” She asked, clearly excited, “I’ve always wanted to live in the library. Can I live with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think your mom’s pretty attached to you,” Mike laughed, walking over to the front desk. He rang up the book, printed out the receipt, and closed the library early.

“Mom could just move in with you!” Jenny said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. Mike turned back from the door and laughed again. He saw Bev in her, bright and fiery, but there was something a little reserved about her, too. Bev stood behind her, still looking a little shell-shocked. Mike led them up the stairs, into his apartment. It was a really a glorified storage floor, books from the floor to the ceiling on every wall. To his credit, Mike had turned it into a sort of bachelor pad, with a comfortable recliner and a king sized bed.

“Sorry,” Mike said sheepishly, moving some of the books on the table, “I haven’t had anyone over in a long time.” Twenty-seven years, to be exact.

Jenny settled on the recliner, absolutely swallowed by the cushions. Mike pulled over the kitchen chair, and Bev sat on the bed. Jenny opened her book.

“Does she read a lot?” Mike asked, “Because, as a librarian--”

“She can’t stay with you,” Bev shook her head, “You can’t adopt her. I’m sorry, Mike, but if you want to be her father you have to do it the old-fashioned way and marry me.”

Mike laughed and felt it in his heart for the first time since he was thirteen. “It’s so good to see you, Bev.”

Bev’s hand came to rest on Mike’s. “It’s good to see you too.”

“How have you been?” Mike asked, “And--actually, do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?”

“Something to eat would be fantastic,” Bev said, “I’m sure Jenny’s hungry, right honey?”

“What?” Jenny asked, looking up from her book.

“Mike’s thinking about getting something to eat,” Bev said, “Are you getting hungry?”

“I want miso soup,” Jenny said, looking down at her book.

“I don’t, uh--” Mike glanced around, “I don’t think I have that. There’s a Chinese place in town but I don’t think they--”

“It’s okay,” Bev smiled, “Just order a pizza or something. She’s not picky.”

Mike, feeling absolutely horrible about it and vowing to stock up on miso soup forever, ordered Dominos. “I’ve got plenty of drinks, though. I think I even have apple juice. Grape, too.”

“Jenny, do you want apple juice?” Bev asked. Jenny looked up from her book again, clearly annoyed.

“I suppose,” She huffed. Mike tried to keep his laughter quiet as he rooted through his cabinets. He pulled out the apple juice, filling up a glass and placing it on the end table next to Jenny. She took a sip of it, keeping her eyes trained on her book.

“Thank you,” She said reflexively. Mike hummed, sifting through his cabinets again. He found a bottle of wine that looked relatively nice and he offered it to Bev, who graciously accepted. They stood in the kitchen, sipping on wine while Mike ordered pizza on his phone.

“So…” Mike started, unsure how to ask, “Are you… married?”

“No,” Bev shook her head, “I was, for a while, but as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I got a divorce. I--do you remember my dad?”

_ How could I ever forget? _ Mike thought, but he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I--”

“I married someone just like him,” Bev admitted, a little choked up, “He was… at first, I tried  _ so _ hard to stop myself from getting pregnant. I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.”

Mike rubbed Bev’s arm. “It’s okay. You did the best you could. And you got out!”

They talked softly. Mike hadn’t done… much… since they’d left. He’d sold the farm and bought the library, and he’d read. And read. And read.

“You sound like you had fun,” Bev snorted.

“Almost as much fun as you,” Mike said, the words leaving his mouth without his permission. For a minute, he worried he’d gone too far, but Bev laughed along with him.

“I didn’t--it wasn’t all bad,” She smiled, “Fashion’s been amazing. It’s so  _ effortless _ , y’know? Like, I can just do it and everyone loves what I do and it’s--it’s just… perfect.”

“Did you… meet new people?” Mike asked, a thinly veiled way of saying  _ Have you forgotten me for real? _

Bev shook her head. “It’s like… well, now I know why, but at first it just seemed like I couldn’t  _ click _ with anybody. Like there was an itch I couldn’t scratch.”

Mike nodded. “It felt like everything was behind a door, y’know?” Bev’s finger slid around the rim of the wineglass, a ringing noise filling the kitchen. They stood there for a while. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but Mike looked up and saw Bev looking back at him. Her eyes were just as blue, just as young, just as  _ Bev _ . Suddenly, he was thirteen again and she was holding them together, all of them, a focal point in a big, messy painting full of warmth and light.

They’d all walked out of it once, but here she was, the chance to restart and live in the warmth and the light again. It wasn’t just like an itch they couldn’t scratch, or like it was behind a  _ simple _ door, doors are easy to open and you can buy a back-scratcher. It was like being out in the cold, feeling your hands grow icy and your breath burn your lungs and not knowing what a blanket is.

But here Bev was, a wonderful fleece blanket and a heated room with soft things. Mike was sure this was the best feeling in the world.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be pizza!” Mike grinned. He went down, paid, and brought the steaming boxes back upstairs. Jenny had gotten herself some more apple juice.

“Hang on,” Mike said, putting pizza on the dining room table and taking the stairs back down two at a time. When he came back, he had two folding chairs. He moved the wooden chair back to its spot. “So we can eat dinner together like a real family,” He joked.

“So, have you… the others, are they--” Bev didn’t quite know how to ask, or what she was asking, “Have you talked to them?”

“You know what happens when--” Mike glanced at Jenny, “You, uh. Move away from your hometown. We drifted apart. The, uh, anniversary is coming up soon, though. I’m sure they’ll come for that.”

“Who are the others?” Jenny asked. She didn’t eat her pizza crusts. Mike remembered Bill and Richie fighting each other over Bev’s pizza crusts when they were little and something pulled at his heart. Nostalgia, he supposed.

“When we were a few years older than you are now,” Bev explained, “We had a little club. There were seven of us.”

“Woah!” Jenny grinned, “Did you go on adventures? Like Gravity Falls?”

Mike and Bev shared a look. “That’s… we did. A lot. There’s a lot of forest out there, you know,” Mike winked, “There’s a lot of magic, too.”

Jenny’s eyes lit up. “Magic?”

“Of course,” Mike explained, like it was simple, “There’s magic everywhere. Books are magic, too.”

“Is that why you became a librarian?” Jenny asked, enraptured.

“It’s… part of the reason,” Mike shrugged, “Why did you and your mom come here? I kept meaning to ask and getting distracted.”

“Uh,” Bev interrupted, “Jenny was having… bad dreams. And they--I just felt like. The change of scenery. Would help.”

The way she phrased it made it sound like she was saying a lot more than she let on. Mike nodded. “About what?”

“A… a man. Getting eaten, by a clown,” Jenny shivered, “And a little girl.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mike said softly, “That’s very difficult.”

“It’s okay,” Jenny said flippantly, “Mommy says they’re just dreams.”

“Can I… talk to your mommy in private for a little bit?” Mike asked, but Jenny shot him a look.

“No. Anything you can say to her, you can say to me,” She said stubbornly. Mike looked over to Bev, who wasn’t saying anything, and wondered what had happened the last time someone had talked to her in private. What Jenny might have heard.

“Jenny, it’s okay,” Bev said eventually, “Mike won’t hurt me. He’s a good man--”

“That’s what you said about grandpa!” Jenny cried, “And he  _ hurt you _ !”

“Bev, I--” Mike swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, “It’s okay. I don’t--it’s not that important. I’m sure it can wait.”

“No,” Bev shook her head, “Jenny, I mean it, Mike wouldn’t hurt a fly. He only wants what’s best for me.”

Jenny was actively sobbing now. “Please, Mommy, he’s going to hurt you!”

“I don’t think Jenny’s been having dreams,” Mike blurted, “I think she’s been having premonitions.”

The arguing stopped. Where Bev had her hand on Jenny’s arm to reassure her, the line grew slack. “What?”

“Jenny, when your mom and I were only a little older than you,” Mike tried, giving up on avoiding the topic altogether, “We and our friends fought against a very dangerous creature. It takes the form of a clown, most of the time, but it can shapeshift. It… likes to eat children. It ate our friend’s brother.” Jenny’s hands trembled and Mike started scrambling, “I--you’re not in any danger, Jenny. You’re safe. Your mom and I, we’re both here, to protect you. And if you want, I can call our friends and then there can be more people to help us! But you could get hurt if you’re not careful. So you’re going to be careful, right?”

Jenny nodded quickly.

“Good,” Mike breathed, “Remember when I told you about magic?”

Jenny nodded again.

“Well, sometimes,” Mike tried again, “Magic can be bad. Sometimes, bad people will make magic that hurts others. But our group has always had good magic. And I think you’ve got some good magic too.”

Jenny looked happier at that, and more excited than scared. “What kind of magic?”

“The kind that makes you see things that are going to happen if we don’t do something about it,” Mike explained, “But I don’t think those visions you had are going to happen until this weekend. Why don’t you and your mom go back to your hotel room tonight and by tomorrow I’ll have called everybody down. Maybe you’ll even get to meet some of them.”

Jenny nodded, grinning brightly. “Mommy, what are your other friends like?”

“I’ll tell you all about them,” Bev smiled softly, and,  _ God _ , Mike would give an arm and a leg to see that smile on her face forever. It was warm and felt like the sun through the trees in the quarry.

“Are you going back to your hotel, then?” Mike asked, “It’s getting a little late.”

It was. “Yeah,” Bev sighed, “I think it’s time.”

Bev stood, and Mike led her down to the entrance. Bev turned to look at him while Jenny put on her coat. “It’s been so good to see you, Mikey.”

“You too,” Mike said, trying very valiantly not to cry. Without his say so, a few tears streaked down his face, and he could feel his chin tremble.

“Are you okay?” Bev asked, hand coming up to brush his tears away. Mike nodded, turning away and trying to regain his composure.

“I just--” Mike laughed wetly, “It’s been so long. You haven’t changed at all.”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Bev gave him that smile again, the one that said  _ I love you _ in a way that meant  _ let’s settle down on a farm. Let’s watch dumb TV and play board games and make pasta and laugh until we’re crying _ . It was the same one Bev had always given him. The one he’d never forgotten.

Mike really did call all of the Losers that night. After, he felt the weight of the day slam against his chest, a wave of exhaustion rushing through him. He went to bed feeling hopeful, for some odd reason.

He woke in the middle of the night to his cell phone ringing. He picked it up and a nervous-sounding Bev answered.

“Call Stan,” She demanded, “I--it’s Jenny. She had a dream--I think Stan’s gonna try to kill himself, or  _ It _ ’s gonna try to kill Stan, I just--call him. Please--”

“Bev, Bev, slow down!” Mike jolted upright, “What’s going on?”

“Jenny had a dream,” Bev took a breath, “She woke up and told me she had a nightmare. She said she saw a man with dark curly hair get into a bath with a sharp metal thing and cut his wrists. She said he looked at her while he--while he--”

“I’ll call him,” Mike said, missing the  _ end call _ button the first few times he tried to click it. He was trembling as he dialled Stan’s number, and it went to voicemail after ringing for a while. He called again and again, a total of five times, before it was picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?” Said a very annoyed Patricia Uris, “Stan’s in the bath right now.”

“Shit--I--Mrs. Uris, check on him,” Mike begged, “Please. Please check on him--”

“Why should I--”

“Just do it!” Mike’s voice broke, “I have a feeling something very bad happened to him.”

Mike heard the sound of footsteps as Patty rushed to the door. She knocked, at first polite, and every time Stan didn’t answer she grew more and more frantic. She ended the call crying, and Mike wasn’t faring much better.

He wasn’t sobbing, but he was staring at the wall, hand over his mouth, tears running down his cheeks. His legs swung out so his feet touched the ground and, numbly, he walked over to the door to the stairs. He called Bev.

“Mike? What happened?”

“Bev, he--” Mike couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t say it out loud. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah,” Bev’s breath was shaky, “Please.”

Mike was in his car without a second thought. It was a beat-up 2004 Honda  _ whatever _ , Mike didn’t really care, but it worked. It drove him all the way to the Townhouse, where he raced to Bev’s room as fast as he could without making any noise.

“Mike!” Bev almost wailed, hugging him. Mike sobbed into her neck, clinging desperately to her, breathing her in. She held him just as tight, and they stayed there for a while.

“I didn’t know remembering would be so hard,” She half-laughed, “I… is he okay? Do you know?”

Mike shook his head. “I don’t--his wife picked up. She found him--I think. I hope he’s okay.”

“Can you call again?” Bev asked, “I just… I have to know.”

Mike nodded, and Bev let him into the room. Jenny was laying in bed, dead to the world. They sat at the table by the kitchenette and Mike called Stan’s number again, breath bated.

It only rang once before it was picked up. “This is… you’re the one who called before, right?” Patty again.

“Yeah. I’m Mike. I’m Stan’s friend from Derry.” 

“Thank you,” Patty’s voice was thin, sobbing, “You saved his life. I--I broke into bathroom and called an ambulance and… he’s alive. He’s in intensive care now. He’s… thank you. I can never repay you.”

Bev’s hand came up to her mouth, eyes puffy and still glistening. “Can you… can you tell him we’re still waiting on the visit? When he wakes up? I miss him so much,” Mike said, Bev’s hand coming to meet his, “The others are coming up soon. You’re welcome to join him--if you want.” 

“I--I think that can be arranged,” Patty sniffed, sounding warm. Mike very much wanted to know her.

“Give me a call when he does wake up,” Mike suggested, “And tell him Mike Hanlon and Beverly Marsh say hi.”

“Of course,” Patty sounded like she was smiling, “I’ll talk to you later, then?”

They said their goodbyes and hung up, silence falling like a weight at the table.

“What happened, Bev?” Mike asked when the silence began to ache, “Really. What happened when you left Derry?”

“I… I tried college,” She said, fingers shaking a little. Mike held her other hand, too, “Went to a nice fashion school on a good scholarship. My aunt paid the rest. She--she died of breast cancer my senior year. I graduated and started working, but I wasn’t doing great with… money.

“I tried so hard not to have alcohol problems, not to have drug problems,” She whispered, “I didn’t want to be like my dad. I found… I found a guy, though. He was handsome, and sweet, and he showered me with attention and I thought he loved me.

“I was so careful about birth control,” She shook her head, “I didn’t want to have a kid. Especially after he--he started beating me. He was abusive. He was controlling, and manipulative, and he hit me. He must have tampered with the birth control of the condoms or--or something. When I found out I was pregnant, I felt like I was trapped.”

Mike tried to make a noise, but his mouth just opened and shut.

“I… I wanted to end the pregnancy,” Bev’s voice was barely audible, “I wanted to… end everything. I wound up leaving him. I didn’t have anywhere to go. For a while, I was in motels, trying to raise her and work my job. Eventually, my dad found me. I had gained enough popularity or whatever, and when she was five and I had  _ just _ gotten into an apartment that passed inspections, he showed the fuck up. I wanted to give him a second chance, and he--”

“Don’t. Finish that,” Mike shuddered, “You don’t have to finish. I can put the pieces together. You kicked him out, right?”

“I put on my big girl panties and got a restraining order,” Bev smiled, “On both of them. I sent Jenny to a nice school and my paychecks got bigger and bigger and Mikey, I made it.”

Mike grinned, crying for probably the third or fourth time that night. “You grew away. You lived a happy life. The clown kept his promises.”

“I think the clown keeps his promises,” Bev said thoughtfully, “I think…”

“Mommy?” Jenny asked from her bed, “What’s Mike doing here?”

Bev rushed over to Jenny’s bed. “Mike and I got some very bad news from a friend. He’s very sick and in the hospital. He came over here to comfort me, sweetie.” Bev’s hand was on Jenny’s forehead, petting her hair, “I told you, he would never hurt me.”

“Do you love him?” Jenny asked, eyes wide. Bev laughed.

“Very much, baby,” She said, “But it’s not like married people love each other. It’s almost like how I love you. But a little different.”

Jenny nodded, laying back down. “Get some sleep,” Bev said softly, “Mike’s going to stay the night, it’s too late for him to drive home now--”

“Hey--”

“It’s too late to be out,” Bev shot Mike a look, “The couch folds out into a bed.”

Bev helped him make the bed, which was sagging in the middle and made a horrendous noise when Mike gingerly tried to lay on it. They’d found a few extra pillows and a scratchy cotton blanket in the closet, which Bev tried to substitute with her own blanket. Mike, being less stubborn than Bev but a little more self-sacrificing, won out. Maybe she was just tired.

Mike slept on the very uncomfortable pull-out couch and it was the best night of sleep he’d had in a long time.

  
  
  
  
  


The next day, he got a call from Richie.

“ _ I came as soon as I could _ ,” He said, “ _ Where are you _ ?”

“Townhouse, complimentary breakfast lounge,” Mike said, “Bev’s here.”

Approximately ten seconds later, Richie Tozier was barrelling into the Townhouse’s lobby in all his messy, sleep-deprived glory. He really did look like a fucking mess, curls greasy and pressed against his head, skin oily and eyes red with exhaustion.

“Did you drive through the night?” Mike asked, bordering on irritation, “ _ Richie _ !”

But he was met with a hug, and any worry he had dissipated like steam. Richie smelled a little worse than he looked, but at least he tried to cover it with… Febreze? Something flowery and strong. It didn’t really help. Mike buried his face in Richie’s shoulder, holding onto him for much longer than was strictly necessary. Richie didn’t seem to mind, melting into Mike’s touch.

“You’re lucky. Caught me in a New York show,” Richie said, “Otherwise, I’d’ve been a hot minute coming from L.A.”

“Richard Tozier,” Bev said from behind Mike. Richie nearly shoved Mike to the floor in his haste to get to Bev.

“It’s nice to see where your loyalties lie, Tozier,” Mike rolled his eyes, but Richie was too busy holding Bev to notice. They eventually made their way back to the booth, where Richie pointed at Jenny and immediately announced, “Whose child is that?”

Bev sighed, already looking a little long-suffering, “Mine, Richie.”

Richie spent a wholly unnecessary amount of time switching his gaze from Bev to Jenny, jaw slack, like he was trying to see the resemblance. “You  _ made _ that?”

This was, apparently, the funniest thing Jenny had ever heard, because she immediately started laughing, eyes closed, hands on her sides. After a beat, Bev started laughing too.

“I missed you, Richie,” Bev admitted after they’d calmed down, sliding back into the booth. Her hand went around Jenny’s shoulder, holding her a little closer. Jenny snuggled into Bev’s side, working on a coloring page she’d gotten from Bev’s backpack.

“Missed you too, Red,” Richie grinned, groaning as he took his seat.

“You need a shower,” Mike wrinkled his nose, tolerance for Richie’s funk running thin, “And a change of clothes.”

“Food first,” Richie said, yawning, “I am exhausted.”

And so Richie stood up again, returning from the buffet line with a mountain of food. French toast, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, and even some fruit decorated his plate. He set the plate down and retrieved two glasses of water.

“Wh--” Mike eyed the plate, “When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

“Uh--” Richie clicked his tongue, “Well, it was a seven hour drive, plus traffic, plus I had to get the rental, plus I had a show that evening so… two days?”

“ _ Richie _ ,” Bev admonished.

“Well, actually, I did have some tequila before the show,” Richie shrugged, “To help with the nerves.”

Bev reached across the table to swat at Richie’s arm. “That doesn’t count! God, eat all that right now, Richie, and take a shower! And then sleep!”

“Jeez, yes, ma’am.” Richie started wolfing down his breakfast, pausing to tell Jenny, “Your mom’s bossy.”

“I’m aware,” Jenny said dryly. Mike snorted. Richie downed the rest of his plate in what must have been a record time, and then Mike helped him move into a room.

Richie didn’t have any suitcases for Mike to carry, just the one that he lugged up the stairs with great difficulty.

“I could help--” Mike started, but Richie took a break from wheezing and straining to glare at him. Richie eventually got his hotel room open, and his gaze never wavered from the bed. It must have looked like a pretty damn good bed.

“Shower first,” Mike commanded, “Then sleep.”

“Aw, but the bed looks so good!” Richie whined, “Micycle,  _ please _ , you gotta give me a little incentive here!”

Mike  _ might _ know what Richie wants. “Shower. Then you can sleep and I’ll keep you company.”

The line of Richie’s shoulders relaxed, and he let out a little breath, but he didn’t say anything. He muttered something and laughed to himself, turning to the bathroom and stripping his shirt off before he even got to the bathroom.

Richie came out looking fresh, but still sopping wet. He clambered into the bed and opened his arms, and Mike was reminded of all the times they’d done this as teenagers. It didn’t feel any different as he fell in beside Richie. He’d always been the most touchy out of them, hanging off of anyone who’d let him. Mike didn’t mind.

Richie’s arms found their way around Mike’s torso, and within seconds, Richie was out. Mike tried so hard not to fall asleep too, because he’d just woken up, but Richie’s snoring was soothing in a strange way. Mike supposed it was white noise. So his eyelids drooped and the warmth glowed around him as he slipped away.

  
  
  
  


In his dreams, there was a turtle. It was giant, almost endless, and its eyes were a milky sort of blue. It spoke--or, Mike heard it speak--and its voice was deep and almost paternal, something akin to love in its voice.

_ She wasn’t supposed to happen, _ It said.

Mike blinked. “Who?”

There was a flash of an image. Jenny, in Mike’s recliner. Jenny, as a baby, in an incubator. Jenny, three and throwing a temper tantrum. Jenny, Jenny, Jenny.

_ She wasn’t supposed to happen _ . The turtle gazed, not unkindly, at Mike. He felt warmth growing from his chest.

“Lots of things aren’t supposed to happen,” Mike reasoned, “But they happen.”

_ You can save them all _ , The turtle said, and there’s an image of Stan in the hospital, bandages on his arms up to his elbows. Eddie, Bill, and Ben all flashed through his brain, too. The image of Richie, hair damp, skin speckled with moles and freckles in front of him stuck. He was tangled in the sheets.

“I can,” Mike nodded, “I will save all of them.”

Bev and Jenny, smiling for a picture.

Mike was suddenly at a hospital. He’s not a patient, rather, a spectator. There was a rush of doctors and nurses out of a room, the tiniest baby he’s ever seen being wheeled out in an incubator. Bev was inside the room, a younger, more vulnerable version of her, crying.

“I messed up,” She wailed, face contorted. She had snot running down her face. She looked truly, truly awful. Mike’s heart ached.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Marsh,” The doctor said, crouching next to her, hand on her shoulder. “It appears that baby is a little ill--”

“It’s my fault!” Bev insisted, “I--I tried to drink too much and I--”

“It’s okay,” The doctor caressed Bev’s shoulders, her hands rubbing up and down and up and down and--

“I killed her,” Bev sobbed, “Didn’t I?”

“There’s not a lot of hope,” The doctor said with some difficulty, “But she could still pull through. And nobody blames you for what you did. You were in a rough spot and--”

Bev collapsed onto herself, folding in half and bellowing with grief. It was the most painful thing Mike had ever seen. But then her screams changed, from grief to fear. To pain. The spot of blood at her waist began to grow. The doctor frantically hit a call button, and Mike was whisked away with Bev.

He heard the words floating away, something like  _ hemorrhage _ , something like  _ massive bleed _ . He was in front of the turtle again, and he was floating too. He hadn’t noticed that before. He was suspended, weightless, tears flowing away in uncertain directions.

_ She wasn’t supposed to happen _ , the turtle said, and Mike saw Bev holding her in her arms, tiny and frail and quite possibly the ugliest baby Mike had ever seen. He supposed preemies were never very cute to begin with, but Jenny was an angry red color and she was screaming her little head off. Bev looked tired, and she was hooked up to some sort of IV, but she was gazing at Jenny like she’d hung the stars.

Mike’s hands wiped at his face, and he looked at the turtle. “So, she wasn’t supposed to happen. What now?”

_ Save them _ , the turtle urges, an edge to his voice, and five pictures flash in front of him. Stan, a young man, two kids, and Eddie.

“Has something happened to Stan?” Mike asked, voice trembling.

_ No, _ the turtle didn’t shake his head, but Mike got the impression he did,  _ But the others… will still-- _

Another image. A man screaming as the young man is bitten into, flesh tearing from his chest like it was no tougher than tissue paper.

Another. Bill was in it, this time, banging on a mirror as Pennywise the Dancing Clown beat down glass in a mirror maze. There’s a little boy stuck between them, crying.

Another. A girl under bleachers, creeping closer to the drooling beast. She looked hopeful, she looked young, Pennywise’s hands were inching ever-closer to her face. They were just about to meet in the middle when Mike was pulled away.

Another. Richie was sobbing, screaming, and Mike pulled him away from something. He looked down to see Eddie, unmoving and bloody. He felt himself say something, but all he could hear was the blood rush to his ears. Eddie’s torso had been torn into, and all the images melded together in a bloody cacophony, swirling with broken limbs and sobs and screams and pain.

It paled out to reveal Stan laying in the bathtub, eyes unseeing. There was a message on the wall next to him, spelled out in blood. His blood, Mike realized with a twist in his gut.  _ IT _ , the message said, and the turtle brought Mike back to his face, back to the floating, and Mike was so, so grateful.

_ What would have happened and what will happen and what you must do to stop and to help are all intertwined and you are the only one who can stop it. Time is everything, she is everything. Save them _ .

  
  
  
  


Mike woke slowly, to the warmth of Richie’s grasp. They hadn’t parted during their little day-nap. The message echoed through his brain and he looked over at Richie to a symphony of  _ save them save them save them s-- _

“Mornin’, Cap’n,” Richie yawned. Mike glanced at the clock--it was two in the afternoon. Richie buried his face in Mike’s chest, snuggling even closer. Had any of them changed?

Mike eventually poked Richie in the side and said, “Get up. Gotta hit the town.”

“Why?” Richie muttered and, while he had a good point, Mike rolled his eyes and persisted.

“We need to convince everyone else to get up here,” Mike said, “Bill, Ben, and Eddie have been polite in our phone calls but I’m pretty sure they all think I’m a psycho.”

“What about--fuck, what’s his name--” Richie snapped his fingers, “Stan?”

Mike cleared his throat, trying to think about how to say it. “I--uh--he’s in the hospital.”

“Wh--what?” Richie sat up, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because he tried to kill himself, Rich!” Mike snapped, “That’s not exactly something you say to your friend after you see them for the first time in twenty-seven fucking years!”

Richie’s mouth snapped shut. He thought on it for a minute, then, “Where is he?”

“Some hospital in Georgia,” Mike rubbed his temples, “He’s stable, but…”

“But he…” Richie looked like he was grasping at straws, “Why? Why would he do that?” Richie looked at his hands and blinked.

“I can’t answer that for him,” Mike shook his head, “But I can take a guess. Richie, do you remember the summer of ‘eighty-nine?”

“Not a drop,” Richie cracked a smile, “Spent the years after I left drunk or high or both, so--”

“It’s not just that,” Mike said, a twinge in his gut, “There’s… something. Here. That makes you forget when you leave. And it’s… it’s horrible, Rich. It’s a monster.”

Richie inhaled sharply. “ _ It _ .”

“It’s gonna come back, Richie,” Mike said, “In a week. People are going to die unless we do something.”

“What can we do?” Richie asked, images of Paul Bunyan and the arcade and a fleet of bicycles filling his head, “Last time it seemed… so invincible.”

“We beat it, though,” Mike reasoned, “We did something and we beat it and we can do it again--”

“How?” Richie stood, pulling on sweatpants over his boxers and a t-shirt on over that, “Listen, I am all for killing a fucked up clown, but I didn’t even know my parents’ names until last night, so--”

“You forgot your  _ parents _ ?” Mike asked, a little horrified.

Richie snorted. “Well, now that I  _ can _ remember, it’s not like they did me any favors.”

Mike sighed, bringing out his phone. “I’m gonna call everyone again.”

“Fine,” Richie said, “I’m gonna go talk to Bev. Where’s she at?”

Mike paused. “Room five-oh-two. Remember, she has a small child.”

“Sure thing,” Richie grinned, “I can be kid-friendly.”

Mike had a hard time believing that. He called Patty first.

“Mike?” Patty asked, and if Mike listened really hard he could hear a heart monitor running in the background.

Mike didn’t bother with an answer. “How is he?”

“Ask him yourself,” Patty said, handing the phone over. There was some muffled conversation, and then Stan’s voice spoke.

“Stanley Uris speaking,” He said and  _ God _ , Mike could have cried again.

“Hello?” Stan asked and Mike realized he hadn’t spoken for a good ten seconds.

“Shit--sorry--it’s Mike, Stan,” Mike couldn’t help the smile on his face, “Mike Hanlon. I called before--uh--I called two days ago?”

“ _ Mike _ ,” Stan sighed, “It’s good to hear from you.”

Mike felt words build up on the back of his throat, but he couldn’t do anything about them. “Come up to see me. To see us. Richie’s here, Stan, and I’ll get Bill and Eddie and it’ll be just like it was and--”

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” Stan said, voice barely there, “I’m so sorry I--”

“It’s okay!” Mike assured him, edging closer and closer to desperation, “Just come up.  _ Please _ , Stan, we--I need you.”

“I’ll--Mike,” He pleaded, “You don’t need me. I’ll just slow you down. I’m--”

“Bev has a daughter, now,” Mike blurted, “She’s ten.”

“Bev…” Stan breathed, “She…”

“She’s beautiful, Stan,” Mike said, “She’s just like Bev. You have to come see her. You can’t--you can’t leave. Bring Patty if you have to. Just don’t--don’t leave. Don’t try to leave again. I can’t--I couldn’t deal with myself if you did.”

“Okay,” Stan said, “I’ll come.”

“Thank you,” Mike sighed, “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Get Bill,” Stan demanded, “I need to see him again.”

“I do too, Stan, don’t worry.”

  
  
  
  


Mike decided the others needed a better reason to come, too.

“Hey, man, listen,” Bill sighed over the phone, “I know you’re pretty hell-bent on this reunion but I don’t think there’s any way I can--”

“I think It’s back,” Mike interrupted. Bill took a moment, and then Mike heard something shatter.

“Bill?” Mike asked, concerned. Bill’s breath was shaky over the receiver.

“I’m okay,” He certainly didn’t sound the part, “I just… I’ll be there. Tomorrow. I’m booking a flight right now.”

“Thank you, man,” Mike let out a breath, “It’s gonna be good to see you again.”

“You too.”

Mike went through his contacts and called Eddie.

“Myra Kaspbrak speaking,” A high-pitched, nasally voice said, “Eddie’s not feeling well. Call back soon!”

“Wait!” Mike pleaded, “I need to talk to him. It’s incredibly urgent. It’s about his--uh--medical records.”

“Well, you can talk to me,” She said, “What did you say your name was, again?”

“I--uh--” Mike blanked, “Listen, this is a matter of life or death. I need to speak to him  _ right _ now.”

“I absolutely cannot let you talk to my husband,” She said, “Goodbye.”

“Let me talk to him!” Mike demanded, “Tell him it’s Mike Hanlon. He’ll talk to me.”

“I am not comfortable letting my husband talk to whatever scam artist you are!” Myra said, “I’ll have you know, I--”

There was a muffled noise on the other end of the phone, and then Eddie was speaking. “Edward Kaspbrak. Sorry about that.”   
  


“Eddie, you have to come back to Derry,” Mike said, still a little on edge, trying to get all his words out at once, “You made a promise. It’s back. Come back, Eddie.”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Eddie asked, voice up an octave.

“Mike Hanlon.”

There was a pause. Eddie’s breathing grew more and more rapid, and Mike could hear Myra panicking on the other side.

“What do you mean  _ It’s _ back? What are you--” Eddie’s breath hitched, “It?”

“Yeah, Eddie, It’s back,” Mike breathed, “We need you up here.”

“Of course--of course I’ll come back,” Eddie said, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“See you then,” Mike said, pressing the end call button. He rubbed at his eyes, calling Ben.

“Benjamin Hanscom, Hanscom Construction,” Ben introduced himself. Mike wondered if any of them bothered to save his number.

“Hey Ben, it’s Mike,” Mike said, “I… I know I told you about the reunion this weekend, but I really need you up in Derry now.”

“I would, Mike,” Ben sighed, “But I’m super busy. You know that.”

“Bev’s here,” Mike offered, “She’s got a kid now.”

There was a pause. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Mike got out of the bed and started pacing, “I… we miss you, man. And I think--It’s coming back.”

For a minute, Mike was worried Ben had stopped breathing. “ _ Oh _ .”

“Please.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” Ben relented, “I… they’ll all be there?”

“Yes, Ben,” Mike smiled, “We’ll all be there.”

They said their goodbyes and Mike wondered, for a moment, if they were just humoring him. Maybe they didn’t remember him at all, maybe they were just…

Mike shook his head. He walked up to Bev’s room and opened the door to find Bev laughing with Richie. It was terribly intimate, and Jenny was off to the side, nose buried in her book. Mike thought Ben would like her.

“They’re all coming tomorrow,” Mike smiled, taking a seat at the table. Bev’s room was a bit bigger than Richie’s, with an actual table in the tiled kitchen. There was complimentary popcorn and tea and coffee in a little centerpiece. Richie had taken out a sugar packet to fiddle with.

The soft orange light from the sunset filtered in through the balcony window.

“Mikey!” Richie cheered, long fingers coming to rest on Mike’s arm, drawing lines on his skin, “How’s life?”

“Better,” Mike grinned, “Now that you’re all here.”

“Oh, you flatterer,” Richie winked, “If I had my way with you, I’d rav--”

“ _ Beep beep _ !” Bev flushed, “Jenny is  _ right _ there, Richie!”

Richie snorted. “She can’t hear a thing we’re saying. You know how Ben used to get when he read. I’m sure she--”

“I can hear very well, thank you very much,” Jenny grumbled from her perch on a bed. Bev shot Richie a look, and Mike chuckled to himself.

“Beverly Marsh, you are just as charming as the day I met you,” Richie grinned at Bev’s sour face. Bev cracked a smile despite herself.

It was a long night, and the more they stayed awake, the less it seemed Richie would ever let them sleep. Jenny had long since passed out with her book on her face--Bev had tenderly taken it and placed it on the table with a hair tie as a bookmark. Mike and Richie ran to the store to get a bottle of wine and wound up getting whiskey, vodka, and tequila too. They returned to the room and were halfway through the wine when Mike’s phone rang.

“Mike Hanlon,” Mike said, trying very hard to not giggle as Richie poked his cheeks.

“I… I’m a little embarrassed,” Ben said, “I came as soon as I could. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” Mike shook his head, “We’re at the Townhouse. Room five-oh-two.”

“I’m in town,” Ben said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ben Hanscom knocked on the door. He had a bouquet of flowers and he looked…  _ so _ handsome. 

“Ben Handsome,” Richie quipped, “Long time, no see.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me,” Ben grinned, placing the flowers on the counter. Bev looped her arms around him, pulling him close. Mike and Richie soon joined, forming a sort-of group hug. Ben laughed, a little awkwardly, like he wasn’t used to being hugged. Eventually, they released him, and he took the final chair at the table.

“Is that her?” Ben asked, tilting his head over to Jenny.

“Yeah,” Bev grinned, “The best kid I’ve ever known.”

They talked, and they talked, like it was 1989 and they were all young again. Until, that is, Jenny screamed, and they were brought back to the present and their hearts thudded in their chests.

Bev rushed over to Jenny’s side, waking her with shaking hands. “Jenny, Jenny, it’s okay! It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m here.”

A voice that wasn’t quite Jenny’s answered. “ _ It’s awake. The eater of worlds, the ender of dreams… the… the Dancing Clown. _ ”

A shudder ran down Mike’s back. Jenny wailed. The three men rushed to her side too, Mike running his hands over her shoulders.

“I saw him… the man,” She gasped for breath, “The… he’s at the fair. He’s at the--he’s--”

“Jenny, sweetie, there’s no fair,” Bev murmured, “Not until tomorrow.”

“Then,” Ben considered, “We know where we have to be tomorrow.”

  
  
  
  


After that, they all fell asleep. They didn’t bother going back to their own rooms, all trying to cram themselves onto the couch-bed. They wound up in a very compromising position in the morning, or, at least, Mike did. He woke up tangled in Richie and Ben’s arms, face-to-face with Richie.

So, basically, he was being spooned by Ben. Not that he had any complaints, Ben was warm and solid and--

Mike sat bolt upright when he remembered what was going to happen that day. His heart thrummed with anticipation and fear. This was it, the day he’d been waiting for, the day he’d promised himself every morning for twenty-seven years. He gingerly got out of bed, trying his best not to disturb anyone, and he started pacing, brain on autopilot.

It took all of three seconds for Ben to wake up. He’d always been a light sleeper--but, then again, after that summer, they all had trouble sleeping--and he rubbed at his eyes as he stood and walked over to the coffee machine.

“Morning,” Ben grumbled as Mike walked around the kitchen. His nervous energy must have been contagious, because Ben’s eyes never wavered from Mike’s form.

“Want to talk about it?” Ben offered, sitting down at the table with his cup of black coffee.

Mike did not want to talk about it. “It’s just--I--” He sighed, pausing, “I’ve been alone since you left. When you guys went to college, I was on my own with memories that I couldn’t tell anybody without being locked up, y’know? And now you’re all coming back and it’s like… I feel like I shouldn’t be grateful, or happy, or--”

“I mean,” Ben interrupted, “It’s not like it’s all bad that we’re meeting up. Yeah, sure, Pennywise is going to attempt to do… whatever he does to people, but it’s--I think I missed you too. It’s not--I didn’t  _ know _ , I didn’t remember, but it was always like… like I’d left something super important at home for the last twenty-seven years and I could never figure out what it was.”

“Until now?” Mike asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee. He knew in the back of his mind he’d grow to regret that idea.

“Yeah,” Ben nodded, “Until now.”

It didn’t take long for Bev and Jenny to wake up--well, Jenny woke up and she demanded that Bev be awake too, so she poked at her shoulders until she groaned into consciousness.

Richie, still dead to the world, rolled over. His hair was all over the place in knots, he’d fallen asleep in his glasses, and the pillow had a drool spot on it. Mike wondered how he’d survived the full twenty-seven years without him.

They sat together in the morning silence (it was eleven) until Mike’s phone rang.

“Hello? Bill?” Mike asked, trying to contain his excitement and failing miserably.

“Hey, I’m in town,” He said, “Where can I meet you?”

“Townhouse lobby,” Mike smiled, “See you soon.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Bill said, “I’ll see you soon.”

Ten minutes later, Richie was awake (barely) and the whole flock was down in the lobby again. The front desk was empty--was it empty the night before? And the night before that? Mike didn’t remember ever talking to any employees ever. Not even during the buffet.

Bill walked in with a hesitant look on his face, and Mike breathed a sigh of relief as he ran forward to hug him. Bill was, like Ben, solid and real and warm. He hugged back. Mike didn’t realize he was lifting Bill off the ground until Bill tapped him on the shoulder.

“Uncle!” He wheezed, and Mike set him down with an apologetic laugh. Bill really hadn’t grown an inch since the seventh grade, stuck eternally at five foot seven. He’d filled out, though, shoulders broader and face older. He was handsome, reading glasses framing his face and a little grey speckled through his hair. Mike felt something old and hungry rear its head in his gut.

“It’s good to see you,” Mike smiled, and Bill smiled back, still bright and gorgeous and Mike  _ really _ didn’t have time for this right now.

“Jenny,” Bev had asked over breakfast, “What time was it in your dream? Do you remember? When you saw the man get hurt?”

“It was night,” Jenny said, thinking hard, “But… I don’t remember anything else.”

“That’s okay! That’s just fine,” Bev smiled warmly.

Now, though, Bill looked past Mike and saw Bev holding hands with Jenny, and there was a look in his eyes that Mike had trouble placing. 

“Bev, I--” Bill looked at a loss for words, “How are you?”

Bill walked over to her, hands on her shoulders, and wrapped her in a tight hug. Bev hugged him back, smiling into his neck. “Good,” Bev said, voice muffled, “I’m doing so good, Bill, it’s insane.”

“And who’s this?” Bill asked, crouching down in front of Jenny.

“I’m Jenny,” She grinned, “And you’re William Denbrough!”

“My friends call me Bill,” He said, winking at her, “Is Bev your mom?”

Jenny nodded, “She doesn’t let me read your books, but I did anyway!”

“Really?” Bill glanced up at Bev, who was scowling down at Jenny, “Which ones?”

“Just The Attic Room,” Jenny said, “I thought it was good. Except for--”

“The ending?” Bill asked.

“No! The ending was good,” Jenny frowned, “People don’t like the ending because they don’t like… complicated things. I didn’t understand some of it. Like when James cheated on his wife. I just don’t understand why someone would hurt someone else like that!”

Bill went scarlet. “Well--uh--it’s just f-fiction, Jenny. I’m going to go cuh-catch up with my good friend Richie Tozier n-now.”

Bill looked a little stunned at his stutter, but nobody else paid any attention to it.

“Oh, so she recognizes  _ you _ ,” Richie rolled his eyes, “Bev, you’re raising an uncultured heathen.”

“Okay,” Bev said, mock-angry, “I’ve seen some of your shows. She’s not watching them until she’s thirty.”

“That’s injustice! Censorship! Unwarrented deplatforming!” Richie crowed as Bill wrapped him in a hug. Richie hugged back, swaying back and forth with Bill and laughing. Bill broke the hug, moving on to Ben, who gave a short, gentle hug.

“Well,” Mike said, “Not to bring down the mood, but  _ It’s _ going to come back tonight, and I think it would be best for us to prepare instead of waiting like a bunch of sheep for the slaughter.”

An uneasy silence fell on the room. Bev pulled Jenny closer, and there was an unspoken question in her eyes.  _ Will she be safe? Will she be safer staying behind or coming with us? _

“There’s safety in numbers,” Mike reasoned, “If we leave her behind… It’ll see an opportunity. There’s no telling what It’ll do to you if you stay behind with her.”

Bev nodded. “Losers stick together?”

“Always,” Bill nodded.

“Before we go,” Mike said, “I’ll call Eddie and Stan again.”

“On speaker!” Richie demanded, choosing a circular booth and sitting down. They all sat around the table, and Mike reluctantly put the phone on speaker.

“Hey!” Stan said, not bothering to ask who it was, “I’m being discharged from the hospital right now. I should be up there this afternoon.”

Cheers went up around the table. “Can’t wait to see you!” Bev said.

Stan’s voice wobbled. “Can’t--can’t wait to see you, either.”

“Love you!” Bill called, but Stan had already hung up. A look was passed around the circle, over Jenny’s head. Thankfully, she didn’t ask any questions.

“Okay,” Mike sighed, a little shaky, “Let’s… let’s call Eddie.”

Eddie picked up on the first ring. “I’m driving. What do you want?”

“Just checking on you!” Mike said, “Where are you? Also, you’re on speaker.”

“On my way to Bangor,” Eddie paused, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Believe it, baby!” Richie said, “You’re on your way to seeing all of us again!”

“Is that Trashmouth?” Eddie asked, sounding a little excited despite himself, “God, maybe I should go home.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Ben said, smiling, “He’s a handful. You always did better with him than any of us. He’s been like a lost puppy.”

“Shut up!” Richie exclaimed, “You’re making false allegations!”

“The sooner you get here, the better, Eddie,” Bill said, “I’ve been here for like, twenty minutes and I’m already at my wit’s end.”

“Eds, they’re being so mean to me!” Richie said dramatically, encouraging a laugh from Jenny, “Tell them to stop!”

“Don’t call me Eds and maybe I will,” Eddie laughed too, “I should be there in half an hour.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, Eddie walked into the Townhouse, dragging two comically large suitcases behind him. He stopped and shook hands with everyone, pausing when he saw Jenny.

“Who’s… is that?” He asked, looking completely out of his element. Richie pointed to Bev and Eddie did not look comforted.

“This is Jenny,” Bev said pointedly, “My daughter.”

Eddie nodded, squeaking out an, “Okay.”

“She’s not gonna kill you, dude,” Richie said, “She’s just a kid.”

Eddie stepped back a little. “I’m gonna go put my stuff up.” He looked like he was hyperventilating.

“I’ll come with,” Richie offered, taking one of Eddie’s suitcases and sprinting up the stairs. Eddie followed just as quickly. Eddie unlocked his door and pushed it open, collapsing onto his bed. He buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“God, I am such an idiot,” He said out loud. Richie sat in the armchair next to the bed and put his feet up next to Eddie, trying not to notice how Eddie’s shoulders hitched.

“Wanna talk about it… or something?” Richie suggested. Eddie shook his head, leaning over so he was laying down on the sheets. He took off his wedding ring and threw it against the wall.

Richie raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Eddie repeated, “I show up and the first thing I do is fuck up talking to _Bev’s_ _kid_ and I want a divorce from my wife but I’m such a coward, Rich, and I’m already telling you everything even though I’ve been here for three seconds and I can’t quit running my mouth and--”

“Sounds like you’re having a great time,” Richie grinned, “If it makes you feel better, I ditched about… two sold out performances in New York for Bev and Mike. I didn’t even know if anyone else would show up.”

“Well, we did,” Eddie said, out of breath, “I don’t remember much of anything, but… I remember feelings. I remember a lot of them.”

“Me too, Eddie-spaghetti,” Richie sighed. Eddie slapped his legs.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” Eddie said. Richie took his hand, bringing him up to his feet again.

“There’s someone at the fair today that we have to save,” Richie said, putting on his best British accent, “And I say, let’s rather head down before the poor chap finds himself in a spot of trouble!”

“You’re the worst,” Eddie laughed, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. They rejoined the group downstairs. They were picking off the last of the complimentary breakfast buffet, which was advertised to end at ten, but was just cooling off at one.

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie wrinkled his nose.

Richie sat next to him, food again piled high on his plate. “Suit yourself. Go hungry.”

Eddie sighed melodramatically and then, thinking better of it, picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. “It’s so…  _ greasy _ .”

“Perfect,” Richie sighed, stuffing a whole piece into his mouth and continuing to talk, “So, what’s the plan with the guy who’s about to get ate?”

“First of all, if you ever talk with your mouth full again, I’ll kill you,” Eddie said, “Second, what the f--what are you talking about?”

“Jenny’s been having dreams,” Bev said, “But Mike thinks they’re premonitions. And, they did… save Stan’s life.”

“O--oh,” Eddie said, hands curling up on his thighs, “What--what happened?”

“It’s--uh--it’s…” Mike tried, “It’s hard. To explain. Something bad happened.”

“With razors!” Jenny added, like she was just glad to have something important to say. The color drained from Bill and Eddie’s faces.

“Jenny,” Bev chastised, “That’s private. We don’t talk about that--”

“Why not?” Jenny asked, at once all Beverly Marsh and entirely her own, “It was my dream.”

Bev sighed. “It’s something very personal. We can’t… It was your dream, but it  _ happened _ . When people… hurt themselves, like that, it’s very sad. We all love Stan… and--and when we learn that he… that he…” Bev sobbed into her hand, and Jenny cast a glance at her.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I--” Jenny’s hands went to Bev’s shoulders, “I didn’t mean it--”

“It’s okay,” Ben said, letting Bev lean on him, “He’s safe now. And you didn’t know.”

Bev nodded, bringing Jenny close. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m just--I’m just very sad about it.”

Jenny nodded, and the booth grew silent, together. Richie, eventually, started to pick at his food again, and Eddie joined him, eating off of his plate just like he used to. The silence grew more and more comfortable the longer they sat, conversation springing up. They delicately avoided Stan, or Jenny’s visions, as the clock crept closer to seven and the sun walked down the sky.

Just as they were about to make their way out the front door, Mike’s phone rang again.

“Mike Hanlon,” He said, not bothering to look at the number.

“Hey! We’ve landed and Patty’s getting the rental. Where should we meet you?”

“There’s a fair in town,” Mike smiled, “Are you feeling up for that?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Stan sighed, “God, I have been locked up in a hospital for two days and they didn’t want to let me out.”

“See you in… half an hour?” Mike asked.

“Maybe forty-five,” Stan said, “Pat’s been a little cautious about the… uh. Injuries.”

Mike picked at a bug bite on his wrist. “Just be there, Stan. We missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Stan said, and it sounded like it was just for Mike. Mike immediately kicked himself for it--Stan was married, most of them were married, and here Mike was, falling in love like he was thirteen again and nothing mattered. Well, it mattered then, too, but for different reasons.

They piled into Mike’s pickup truck and Richie’s nice rental car, which Eddie spent a hot minute drooling over before Richie passed him the keys wordlessly. They arrived at the fair as the sun settled into the golden hour, bathing them all in a sort of glow that Mike found, frankly, unfair. They all looked almost angelic, dream-like, as if they were passing through the veil. Mike thought that, maybe, they were.

Stan found them immediately. “How’d I get here before you?”

Before he could get another word out, Bev had her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. To his credit, Stan looked like he was hugging back just as hard, pressing his face into the crook of Bev’s neck and taking a deep, shaking breath.

“Careful! Careful!” A woman, about a head shorter than even Bill, said, tucking keys away into her purse, “He’s delicate!”

Eddie hissed, making a halfhearted joke. “Stan? Delicate?”

Bev’s hand came back to trace the marks left on his face, left there by the woman with the flute all those years ago. “Never.”

Patty stopped in her tracks, suddenly, ramrod straight. “Stan. Where did those scars come from? I’ve never noticed them before.”

The group took a collective breath. “You know how I told you this was just a reunion? I may have… withheld some information. So you wouldn’t be scared, or put me in an asylum or--or something.” Stan looked genuinely apologetic, and Patty crossed her arms over her chest.

“What makes you think I’d do that?” Patty asked, raising an eyebrow, “You know I’m here for you, babylove.”

Stan did not even have the decency to look mortified at the pet name. “It’s… because. It is a little crazy. It’s a lot crazy. I’m sorry.”

Patty looked decently placated, given the circumstances, giving him a sort of shrug.

Stan went around the circle, getting hugs from everyone. Mike felt something give way in his heart, like someone had pressed a switch, and relief flooded his system. He could  _ see _ Stan, he was  _ safe _ , he could feel his curls under his fingers again. Mike rocked Stan back and forth a little, still halfway convinced he’d disappear if Mike let him go.

“This is Patty, my wife,” Stan grinned, gesturing to her, “Patty, this is Mike, Bill, Ben, Richie, Eddie, Bev, and--”

“Jenny!” Jenny squealed, giving Patty a hug. Patty laughed, clearly delighted.

“She’s mine,” Bev sighed, “She hasn’t even had any sugar yet tonight.”

“So what’s the plan of action?” Mike asked, “Should we just… go look for the guy?”

“What guy?” Patty raised an eyebrow as Mike handed out the tickets.

“It’s a long story,” Mike said, a little--a lot--out of his element, “I promise we can explain everything later, but there is a man that is going to die tonight unless we intervene. The police won’t help, and if we try to tell anybody, we’ll get locked up.”

Patty raised an eyebrow to him and said nothing. Mike was going to buy her the biggest gift basket money could buy.

“So, Jenny,” Bev bent down next to her, “We need you to find the man from your dreams.”

Jenny nodded, smiling despite the circumstances. “Will you get me cotton candy?”

“After you find him,” Bev stipulated, “You’ll be too hyper otherwise.”

Jenny looked suddenly as serious as a small child with two pigtails and a missing front tooth could look, and set off into the fair, dragging Bev and, subsequently, the whole gaggle of adults behind her. Mike saw a flash of Bev again, on a mission, determined and stubborn and full of fire.

She did not give up after five minutes, but she did demand a piggyback ride from Ben. “So you can see better,” Ben said, hands hooked under Jenny’s legs. Jenny rested her head on Ben’s, humming.

Then, she pointed at two men, standing together at a game booth. “It’s him. The one with the hat!”

The group watched as a couple of teenagers started to heckle them. The one with dark brown hair must have said something to set them off, because they ran after the couple as soon as the other one, in the letterman jacket, decided it was time for them to split.

“Hurry!” Richie urged, starting to run after them. For a man who advertised the fact that he hadn’t gone to a gym in fifteen years, Richie could book it. They made it all the way to the bridge out of town, fully out of breath, arriving on the scene of what could definitely become a massacre if it was pushed too far.

The two men were lying on the ground, and the kids were beating them viciously. Richie looked at the scene and clutched at his chest, wheezing a little. His eyes were wide with panic.

“Leave them alone!” Bill said, stepping forward, “They didn’t do anything to you!”

“You’re really gonna stand up for these fags?” The leader of the group, a wiry kid with greasy brown hair, took a break.

“He can’t breathe! He’s got asthma!” One of the men cried, “Somebody help him!”

Mike rushed forward, pushing the bullies out of the way. He was reminded starkly of the Bowers gang, of being chased, almost hit with a car, of--

“He doesn’t deserve help!” One of the kids said, kicking out at Mike.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ hurt him!” Bev screeched, stepping forward and holding her hands up in a boxing stance. Mike wondered if she had taken lessons.

“Where’s your inhaler?” Mike asked the man he had in his arms. He pointed over to the ground, somewhere between the scuffle and the edge of the bridge. One of the kids saw it first, though.

“You want this?” He asked, holding it out, “Fetch, bitch!”

The inhaler went over the railing of the bridge, into the water below. The man’s arm dropped and he made a noise that sounded something like a sob.

Ben set Jenny down and joined the fray, holding the kids back from the other man, who was curled in on himself on the ground. When Bill stepped forward, they must have decided it was too much trouble.

“You’ll regret this!” The leader yelled as his whole gang backed away, turning to run, “You’re all just a bunch of fags!”

Ben, in a rare moment of true rage, yelled and chased after them, something terrifying in his eyes. It was enough that they all sprinted away, still muttering curses under their breath.

“Eddie!” Mike whirled around, “You’ve got your inhaler, right?”

Eddie dug around in his backpack, producing the device and passing it to Mike. Mike handed it to the man, but his hands were shaking so bad that Mike wound up pressing it to his lips and engaging the plunger for him. The man sucked in a breath, holding it and letting go in a way that seemed, at least to Mike, well-rehearsed. He wheezed a few more times before the medicine started working, and he laid down on the ground for a while, catching his breath.

“Are you two okay?” Bev asked, crouching down next to the other man. Mike realized his shoulders were shaking. Bev rubbed his shoulder, pulling him into something resembling a hug, letting him cry.

The man in the letterman jacket crawled forward, wrapping his arms around the other. They cried together, and Mike knew… he knew the feeling.

Richie wasn’t paying attention. He was looking out over the bridge, at something in the distance.

Mike joined him and couldn’t help the sharpness of the breath he sucked in. There, standing on the edge of the riverbank, was Pennywise. He let out a roar, something inhuman and  _ angry _ , and everyone on the bridge jumped.

“Patty,” Mike said, motioning her forward, “Do you see that?”

Patty looked over the railing and nodded.

“That’s what gave Stan his scars,” Mike pointed, whole arm shaking, “We… we thought we killed it, when we were younger. But we didn’t. It… it wants  _ us _ dead, Patty.”

It opened its mouth, jaw splitting wide to reveal the teeth. Patty screamed.

“Pats… Pats, it’s okay,” Stan said, coming up behind her. She jumped when he touched her. “We’re gonna--we’re gonna kill it. Mike knows how to kill it, right?”

Mike nodded. He hated lying. He hated it so much. But if he told the truth, they’d leave. He didn’t want to die alone, shaking and afraid and cold. “Of course.”

Mike turned to the group. “He’s hungry. And angry. We can’t… we can’t stay.”

Bev nodded. “Time to get up, guys. We can take you back to ours and patch you up.”

Ben and Bev helped stand the men on their feet, and they looked  _ awful _ . They were bloody and bruised and the one in the letterman jacket wasn’t putting any weight on his left leg.

“What are your names?” Ben asked softly, any anger completely drained out of his system.

“Don,” The dark-haired one said, “And Adrian. We’re--thank you so much. You saved our lives.”

Adrian nodded. Don lost his balance, and Ben rushed to take Adrian’s weight off him.

“It’s what I wish someone had done for me,” Ben smiled sadly. Adrian glanced at him, and Ben lifted up his shirt to show the big  _ H _ that still marred his stomach.

“I can’t compete with that,” Don complained, “Quit being hot!”

“Unfortunately, he’s a nice person too,” Richie sighed, “Probably the best person to ever exist.”

A sort of angry mutter of agreement went up throughout the group, and Ben flushed bright red. “I feel like you’re putting me up on some sort of pedestal here.”

“We are, Haystack,” Richie patted him on the back, “Because you look very good up there.”

The rest of the walk to the front of the park was generally uneventful, except Adrian hacking up a lung and Eddie offering his inhaler again.

“You two need to ride in Mike’s car,” Richie said, “I don’t want to explain blood in my backseat to the rental guys.”

Everyone seemed to think that was a reasonable request, and they reorganized. Bev and Jenny went to the backseat of Stan’s rental, Ben, Richie, Bill, and Eddie all in Richie’s. Eddie was over the moon at the opportunity to drive the sleek, red muscle car again. He grinned as the car purred to life under his fingers.

“Don’t cream on my car, Eds,” Richie said, leaning back and sticking his hand out the window as Eddie pulled out onto the road. Eddie hated to say it, but he looked incredibly at peace, almost sweet. He bit his tongue.

“It’s not  _ your _ car,” Eddie retorted, checking the mirror and looking at Ben’s face, lit up with laughter. Eddie’s heart ached something awful, feelings he hadn’t known since he’d left Derry some twenty-five years ago flooding his system. He wondered how he’d ever thought that what he had with Myra was love.

He wasn’t ready to tell himself the truth--it was fear. Not… nothing like seeing Pennywise, though. Everything outside of Derry was dampened, less real. Everything now, though, since the sun went down, felt real like lightning in a storm. Like the feeling of wind whipping through Eddie’s hair, or the way the waters at the quarry lifted up his feet as he floated on his back. 

Ben stretched out in the backseat head on Bill’s lap, criminally handsome and even more so unsafe.

“Sit up!” Eddie demanded, but Ben didn’t pay him any attention. He just grinned, light as air, and rested one hand on his stomach, bringing the other up to mess with Richie’s hair. Bill traced the lines of Ben’s face, way too soft for his own good. Richie leaned into the touch, still just as starved for it as he always was.

Eddie wanted to jump his bones. All of them. He wanted to jump all of their bones, and he hated himself for it. He was  _ married _ , and as much as he didn’t--couldn’t, he thought,  _ couldn’t _ \--love Myra, he couldn’t love anyone else. Not right now. God, that would be such a dick move.

The Townhouse arrived, imposing and tall in the night. The face of the house, lit by streetlight, made it look more like some sort of castle. Or fortress. Somewhere where people go to die, Eddie thought.

Adrian, Don, and Mike were already in the lobby, and Richie took them up to his room, where Eddie started with his antics, fretting and fussing like he’d known them his whole life.

They might as well have. Queers from Derry were all the same, Eddie supposed. He directed Adrian to elevate his foot.

“I have to examine it, to see if it’s broken,” Eddie said, loosening the shoelaces completely and prying Adrian’s shoe off. Don laid down next to him.

“Look at me,” Don said, “We made it. We’re safe.”

Adrian smiled. “Going to the fair, kissing in public--what a stupid idea. Horrible, reckless,  _ so _ dangerous--”

Don kissed him and Eddie accidentally yanked his sock off his toes, jerking the ankle. Adrian jumped. “Shit! What was that for?”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Eddie said, propping Adrian’s foot up under a pillow. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

Adrian did so without a lot of trouble. “Looks like it’s just a sprain. Here, I’ve got a wrap in my…” 

Eddie produced the bandage, wrapping Adrian’s ankle. “There. If it starts to feel numb or turn blue, come back to me and I can loosen them. You should stay off your feet for a few weeks. Get it x-rayed as soon as you can, just in case it’s a small hairline fracture.”

“Yes, sir,” Adrian saluted, “Anything for the handsomest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m twice your age,” Eddie scowled.

“Twice the experience,” Don winked.

Eddie stood up. “How old even are you?”

“I’m eighteen, he’s nineteen,” Adrian said, “Went through Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, and Derry High together.”

“And we’re leaving,” Don said, nodding, “After the summer. Leaving and never coming back.”

“Good,” Mike said, kicking his feet up on the edge of the bed, “Do that. Leave and never come back. It’s the only way to get rid of Derry.”

“Why didn’t you?” Don asked, looking over to Mike, “You were the librarian my whole life. You could have left.”

“I… uh--” Mike sighed, “It has to do with what happened tonight, actually. There’s--something happens when you leave Derry. You forget everything about this town, and the people who lived there. Not like normal forgetting. These people, my best friends, did not remember my name a month after they left. And they didn’t remember until they returned. We’re still remembering.”

Don sucked in a breath. “Would I--if I left, I would forget him?”

“You would,” Mike nodded, “And he would forget you. At least, all the things you did together in Derry. But--I--we’re looking to fix that.”

“We’ll help,” Adrian said without a second thought, “Whatever it is, we’ll help.”

“I--that’s not--it’s dangerous,” Eddie shook his head, “You’re kids.”

“We are damned capable!” Don said, “I bet I could take you in a fist fight, old man!”

“I’m not--” Eddie sputtered, “I’m only forty!  _ And _ I just saved your ass!”

“ _ And _ the more people you have, the more likely you’ll succeed,” Adrian reasoned, “So you should let us. We’re gonna do it anyway, the only difference is if you tell us we’ll be informed.”

“You are  _ children _ !” Bill exclaimed, looking like he was sitting on his words for a while, “You need to get the fuck out of d-d-dodge. Now. We’re not juh-joking--this is dan-dangerous. We barely suh-suh-survived the first time we t-t-tried this. You have your whole lives ah-ah-ahead of you--”

“Maybe we don’t!” Adrian sat up, “I almost  _ died _ tonight! They were going to  _ kill _ me! You said it yourself, this town is  _ weird _ . There’s something here that kills you, and I for one would like to kill it first.”

Eddie sighed. “Fine.”

“You want to know?” Mike asked, “There’s no way to… un-know. Once I tell you.”

“Open our eyes, man,” Don said, “Blow our minds.”

Bev opened the door, knocking on it and bringing Stan, Patty, and Jenny into the room.

“How are you doing?” Jenny asked the teenagers.

“You really are the cutest kid on the planet,” Don smiled, “Adrian, I want one.”

“Hon, you can’t even keep your room clean,” Adrian said fondly, hand clasped in Don’s. Richie’s room wasn’t as big as Bev’s, so they dragged some chairs in from Bill’s room across the hall.

“Okay,” Mike said, “Everyone wants answers, right?”

The whole room nodded. Mike sighed.

“There’s always been a presence here,” Mike said, “A being. When we were kids, we called it--well-- _ It _ . With a capital ‘I’. It calls itself Pennywise the Dancing Clown. It shapeshifts into your worst fears. We used to think it was just a part of the town, but… I’ve been researching It for the better part of thirty years and it’s been here since it was just the Indigenous people.

“They have stories, legends, about a meteor that left a crater under what is now the Neibolt House,” Mike noticed Adrian and Don stiffen, “And about what has always lived inside. It’s been killing people for thousands of years. There’s a ritual that I think will get rid of it, but… I’m not sure how it’ll work with more than just the seven of us. We all need tokens--something that means a lot to us from Derry. Since we saved Adrian and Don, I’m worried that It’ll try to take someone else tonight, or soon. It’s hungry, and it’s angry. We need to sleep tonight, because tomorrow, we need to find our tokens and kill it. Before it hurts anyone else.”

Patty took in a shaky breath. “Stan, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I forgot, Pats,” Stan took Patty’s hands in his, “When you leave Derry, you forget. That’s why you couldn’t see the scars.”

“How could something  _ do _ this to you?” Patty asked, hands trailing over the marks again.

“It--my dad used to have this painting,” Stan said, “In his study--in the synagogue. It was a woman with a flute, a Munch painting that was warped like the Scream. I--it came to life. It--Pennywise--took her form, chased me. It found me in the sewers and transformed into her again. Her mouth opened--opened like a snake, like her jaws could swallow me whole. Her teeth latched on to the sides of my face and I could feel myself starting to--starting to float, and I--”

Patty brought Stan into a hug as he broke, and Mike sat on his other side, hands running over Stan’s shoulders.

“You guys left me behind,” Stan whispered, an echo of himself at thirteen. His hands were close to his chest. Bill crouched next to him.

“We didn’t--Stan, we didn’t mean to,” Bill said, tears in his eyes, “You have to know, we didn’t mean to. I was stupid, I was so stupid--I saw Georgie and I didn’t think and I ran--”

“You didn’t ever think, did you?” Stan asked, smiling and laughing wetly, “You just didn’t think.”

“No, Stan, I don’t think I did,” Bill smiled back. Stan leaned into him, calming down, chest heaving.

“That’s… that’s heavy man, I’m sorry,” Don said, “I’m glad I never went into that fucking house.”

“God, that house,” Richie said, “Pretty sure we all have post-traumatic stress disorder now.”

The joke fell a little flat mostly because it was true, but also because Stan had just clearly had a panic attack in front of them.

“I’m exhausted,” Ben admitted, “It’s been a long night. And we still have to figure out how we’re gonna divvy up rooms.”

“About that,” Adrian said, “Uh. So, my parents and Don’s are both pretty shitty--they’re gonna be pretty mad about this whole thing. About us, y’know, going out to the fair. And our friends wouldn’t understand--”

“You can stay here,” Richie said, “I crashed on Bev’s couch-bed before. I can just stay there again.”

“I’ll stay there too,” Mike said, “Can’t… we should stick together.”  _ I don’t want to be alone again _ .

“Yeah,” Bev nodded, seeing right through him. Her eyes, the ones that cried rivers in Mike’s dreams, the ones that could see everything.

“I guess we’ll get a room?” Patty suggested, but Bill was already shaking his head.

“You guys can crash in mine,” He said, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

They all wound up retreating to the rooms they said they were going to. Eddie went with Richie and Mike, because they had previously figured out that they could, in fact, fit three people on the couch-bed.

Patty and Stan’s night-time routine started with Stan bitching about the fact that he needed to change his bandages to take a shower. Bill rolled his eyes, but obliged when Patty asked him to help with the dressings.

“Ow, shit--be careful!” Stan hissed as Bill worked his way down to the ones that were touching the wound. Bill’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the marks. They were stitched shut, still red and angry. There were lines, raised from the rest of his skin. They were jagged, made with shaking, unsteady hands. 

“Please stop looking,” Stan begged him, “Please. I’m sorry, I--”

“No,” Bill shook his head, “Stan, I can’t argue wuh-wuh-with you a-a-about this. I--I luh-love you, man. Have s-s-s-since we wuh-wuh-were kids. But I c-c-can’t help it. It’s--it’s s-s-s-scary.”

Patty’s hand rested on Bill’s arm. “Let me.”

She took over, gently rubbing antibiotic ointment into the wound and the surrounding area. Bill wondered faintly if that was what love was supposed to look like. Lord knows he never--Audra never--

Bill refused to let himself think about it for too long.

Stan stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving Bill and Patty to their own devices.

“So… when did you muh-meet Stan?” Bill asked, trying to ignore the little pang in his heart. He couldn’t decide if he was jealous of Stan, or Patty, or both of them, or if he was just sad that they’d drifted apart, or if--

“College,” Patty said, “He was a cutie. Studied theology and religion for about a year before giving in and switching to an accounting major. I… it didn’t make him happy, ever. Not really. But he wanted a good life for us and for--for any kids we’d have.”

“You have kids?” Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

Patty shook her head. “My first pregnancy ended in a stillbirth. My second was ectopic--they had to terminate it. Surgery complications left too much scar tissue on my uterus for me to get pregnant again and--oh jeez, I just really overshared there, didn’t I?”

“No, it’s fine,” Bill flashed a little smile, “I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s okay,” Patty sighed, “I guess… as long as I have him, I’m okay.”

“You really luh-love him, then?” Bill couldn’t help himself.

Patty shot him a knowing look. “Yes, I love him. He’s my  _ husband _ .”

“Wuh-wuh-well,” Bill let out a little laugh, “The r-rest of us didn’t have much luck with huh-huh-husbands. Or wives.”

Bill was starting to wonder if he got lucky, too. He used to say it, he used to say Audra made him the happiest man alive. He was starting to wonder if he believed that any more.

“I do love him,” Patty said, a little less snappish, “He’s… he’s never tried to--before Mike called, but--”

“It’s oh-okay,” Bill said, “We--we were all suh-scared.”

“I can see why!” Patty said, “It sounds like… it sounds like you all don’t have a lot of good memories here.”

“Ac-act-actually,” Bill replied, sitting on the bed and pulling off his shoes, “We huh-have a lot of-of guh-good--”

“Pats, where’s my pajama pants?” Stan asked, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Bill tried not to faint.

“Suitcase, in the mesh pocket,” Patty said, digging out her own pajamas from her suitcase. They were identical other than an embroidered  _ Stanley Uris _ and  _ Patricia Blum-Uris _ in blue on the fronts. They went back into the bathroom to change. Bill hadn’t bothered to pack pajamas. He didn’t usually sleep in them anyway.

Bill searched his closet for the extra blanket and pillow. He’d steal a throw pillow and complain about his back tomorrow.

“No, you can sleep in bed with us,” Patty shook her head, “We’re all adults. It’s a big bed. We’ll be fine.”

Bill was too tired to argue, and he wanted to be able to walk the next day, so he walked over to Stan to help him rebandage his arms. There was gauze that they wrapped around first, then a wrap to hold the gauze in place, held with metal clips.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Bill said, because he was going to die if he didn’t, “I mean it. Please don’t try again.”

“I won’t,” Stan said.

“Promise,” Bill demanded, a glint in his eye.

“I promise,” Stan said, still a little unenthusiastic for Bill’s taste.

“No,” Bill shook his head, “A Stan Promise. Give me your word.” Bill held out his pinkies. It was an old trick--Stan couldn’t lie unless he crossed his fingers behind his back. He couldn’t cross his fingers if they were linked with Bill’s. So they held pinkies.

“I, Stanley Uris,” Stan sighed, looking in Bill’s eyes, “Give you my word. I will not try to kill myself again.”

“You’ll stay?” Bill pushed.

“I’ll stay,” Stan nodded, “Wherever you are. I won’t leave again.”

Bill smiled, eyes glistening. “And I, Bill Denbrough, will hold you to that promise. In return, I promise not to leave you. I’ll stay, wherever you are.”

They dropped pinkies, and Patty giggled.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” She joked, and there wasn’t even a hint of jealousy. In fact, when Bill met her eyes, she mouthed a  _ thank you _ to him.

“Let’s go to bed,” Bill suggested, and Patty and Stan had no objections to that. They piled into the bed Bill-Stan-Patty and it didn’t take long for sleep to overcome Bill.

  
  
  
  


Jenny was floating. At first, she panicked, arms and legs flailing, searching for purchase. But then she opened her eyes, and they basked in the cool glow of the Turtle.

_ You are beautiful _ , He said,  _ You are beautiful. _

“Thanks?” Jenny looked to him, and she received a vision. One of Mike, wide-eyed and sweating, trembling on the ground in the forest.

_ He is not telling the truth _ , the Turtle showed her another vision. Mike, sobbing as he etched out a scene on an artifact. Jenny’s heart raced--she hadn’t quite known what to think of any of these people, but now she was sure she didn’t like Mike. She didn’t want to dislike him, though. She was afraid, mostly.

_ Lies that will hurt people. _

“What is the truth?” Jenny asked.

_ Find the truth, and you will find the answers _ , the Turtle left two more visions in Jenny’s head.

A girl and a boy. Both of them her age, both of them dying. She fell back into her own body, slamming down onto the bed in a way that left her heart racing.

She woke screaming, with Bev’s arm on her shoulder and Mike’s on her back. The words of her dream swirled around in her head.

  
  
  
  
  


Eddie had been a pain in the ass to sleep with. He rolled over and over, trying to sleep, but his mind must have been crawling with all the awful bacteria and viruses covering the hotel room. Mike didn’t think there was anything they needed to worry about except the killer clown. In either case, Richie had, half-asleep, wrestled Eddie into a tangled mess of limbs and faces. They were probably drooling on each other, but at least they were sound asleep.

Mike hadn’t dreamed.

He woke up to screaming. Immediately, he rushed to Jenny’s side, without a second thought, and Bev was there too, and they were calming her down. The  _ RichieEddie _ lump moved and groaned from the couch-bed, slowly entering the world.

Jenny pulled away from Mike. “You’re a liar!”

The entire room grew still and silent. Richie and Eddie seemed to have woken up in a fraction of the usual time, both of them sitting up and staring at Mike.

“I--what?” Mike asked, eyes wide. He begged the universe for her to not be talking about what he thought she was talking about.

“You--you messed with the ritual!” Jenny accused, “You lied to us!”

Mike shook his head. “No, Jenny, I--I wouldn’t do that, I--”

“The turtle told me!” Jenny persevered, “He told me people would get hurt if you didn’t tell us the truth!”

Mike’s mouth snapped shut. He pleaded with Jenny, internally, to laugh, to say it was a joke. To do whatever little kids do when they find out they’ve pressed too far. “Jenny…”

“That’s not true, is it, Mike?” Bev asked, hurt apparent in her voice.

Mike glanced down at the floor. “I--”

“You  _ lied _ to us?” Richie asked, outraged, “You were gonna send us to  _ die _ ?”

“No! I--it--” Mike stammered, “The ritual didn’t work. When the indigenous people tried it. They died. But we’re different! We could kill it! Trap it!”

“You know that’s not true, Mike,” Eddie shook his head, “We’re not--we’re no different from them. We’d die, Mike. Is that what you fucking want? You want us to fucking--you want us to die?”

“Eddie,” Bev warned, “Mike doesn’t want us to die.”

“Please,” Mike said, chin wobbling. He hated crying like this, desperate and vulnerable and ugly, “Don’t leave. I--I did lie. About how confident I am in the ritual. But I don’t--I can’t face It alone, and I--you’d leave me if you knew and now you know and I’m too much of a coward to go by myself and--”

“Mike,” Bev said, hands coming to meet his, “Mike, calm down. We’re not leaving.”

Mike pressed his face into the bed, body coming to a position that was something like prayer. His hands were in front of him, clasped in Bev’s, and his shoulders were shaking as he cried with twenty-seven years of pent-up fear. He felt more hands join, on his shoulders and his back, rubbing little circles into the fabric of his t-shirt. Richie’s hands were big, but Eddie’s were sure, and warm.

“I didn’t want to die alone,” Mike admitted with a horrible croak in his voice, “I didn’t… I thought maybe if I died with you guys by my side it would be bearable.”

“You’re not going to die,” Richie said curtly.

“We can figure it out together.” Bev’s fingers worked over Mike’s, both of them rough and calloused. 

Mike nodded miserably, and a fourth, tiny pair of hands patted him once on the back of the head.

  
  
  
  


The rest of them weren’t any easier to tell. Mike kept freezing in Bill’s eyes. They were hurt.

“I’m--Bill, I’m so sorry, I--”

“No, Muh-muh-Mike,  _ I’m _ sor-sorry,” Bill’s hands were balled into fists, “Th-th-that you thought we would--would  _ aba-abandon _ you or suh-suh-something!”

“Bill,” Mike shook his head, “You don’t--you don’t understand. Twenty-seven years! I watched you all…  _ leave _ me. I couldn’t--I can’t do it again. I  _ had _ to figure it out and--I ran out of time. I’m  _ sorry _ .”

“I love you!” Bill raised his voice to a breaking point, “I love you, Mike! I would follow you to the ends of the earth, I would follow you even if it meant my death!”

Mike faltered. Bill hadn’t stuttered once, despite his shaking hands.

“I--” Mike watched as Bill’s face fell again, sad instead of angry.

“I m-m-meant it, Mike,” Bill murmured, “I l-l-love you. Muh-more th-than I--more th-than I sh-should.”

Mike wrapped Bill in a hug. “I love you too.”

  
  
  
  


“Two people will die today, unless we do something,” Mike said to the table. Everyone was so much more subdued than usual, picking at food. The entire building was silent, except for some music playing in the background, some slow piano tune. Eddie was finishing his seemingly endless morning routine, alone in his room.

Richie pushed his food around on his plate. “Who?”

Bev rubbed Jenny’s shoulders. “Two little kids. A girl and a boy. The girl has a birthmark on her face. The girl dies under some bleachers, the boy dies in a mirror maze.”

“That’s… not a lot of information to go off of,” Patty said, arm wrapped around Stan’s shoulders.

“Actually,” Mike said, pulling out a map of Derry he’d retrieved from his apartment, “We know that the mirror maze will be at the fair, and we can also see that, although there are two sports parks in town, I know this one doesn’t have bleachers.”

“What kind of sports park doesn’t have bleachers?” Patty asked.

“What kind of town has a killer clown in it?” Richie said before Mike could get a word in, “Don’t complain, Pretty Patty, it makes our job easier.”

Patty chose to ignore the nickname, which was usually the wisest choice when dealing with Richie.

“Right, the job of figuring out how to kill an unkillable clown,” Stan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Where do we start?”

“I think we should start by remembering,” Mike said, “It’s… part of the process for the ritual, anyway, rediscovering old memories.”

“The ritual that we’re not doing?” Adrian raised an eyebrow at Mike. Mike didn’t know quite how to respond--how  _ are _ you supposed to respond after the veneer you’ve been building up for three decades is shattered by a ten year old?

“We should suh-suh-split up,” Bill said, breaking the silence “Send half of us tuh-to the fair a-a-and the other half to the puh-park.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Mike smiled, grateful, “How do you propose we split up?”

“Uh--” Bill looked around, “You and me with Stan, Puh-Puh-Patty, Bev, and Jenny. Ben cuh-can take Richie, Eh-Eh-Eddie, Adrian, and Don to the park. We’ll go back to the fuh-fair.”

“But last time I didn’t even get any cotton candy!” Jenny whined, pouting.

“You’ll get some this time,” Mike promised, “I’ll buy it for you myself.”

Everyone felt the anticipation mounting, and it felt almost irresponsible, all of a sudden, to just be sitting at the booth in the lounge. The music had stopped.

“Does anybody else hear that?” Richie asked, head whipping around. It took Mike a second, but then he did hear it. A steady, solid,  _ drip, drip, drip, drip _ .

They all stood up, Bev keeping Jenny behind her as they stepped out. Mike didn’t see anything until he felt something hit his shoulder. He looked down at his shoulder just in time to see another drop of blood land on it, then he looked up.

Patty screamed again, and Mike didn’t blame her.

There, at the ceiling, was Henry Bowers, floating. His eyes were big and empty, and he was bleeding out of a stab wound in his stomach.

Eddie stumbled down the stairs, shirt covered in blood. “Guys!”

Bev rushed over to him just as Henry Bowers’ body fell, hitting the floor with an ungraceful, disgustingly wet  _ thump _ .

Richie turned around and puked. “God, I can’t stand blood.”

Mike continued to look up at the ceiling, and eventually everyone’s gaze was drawn up again. Some of the blood stayed on the wall, reading  _ YOU CAN’T SAVE THEM ALL. _

Mike’s fingers trembled. He knew that message was for him. He  _ knew _ , he  _ knew _ .

“I can, and I will, you stupid  _ fucking _ clown!” Mike screamed at the ceiling, even though It certainly couldn’t hear him, “I’ll save everyone I can and you’ll starve! Do you hear me?”

Stan’s arms came up behind Mike and his hands smoothed the sleeves on his shoulders. “It’s okay, Mikey. It’s gonna be okay--”

“Stan,” Mike turned around, “You would have died. You weren’t supposed to live.”

“I-- _ what _ ?” Stan asked, completely bewildered.

Mike’s hands were still shaking as he pulled Stan into a hug. “If Jenny hadn’t known, I--you would have died. And Jenny wasn’t supposed to happen and none of this was  _ supposed _ to happen!”

“Mike, I know we’re in Derry,” Stan said, “And I know we’re chasing a killer clown right now, but you are starting to sound a little bit like a crazy person.”

Mike started to hyperventilate, chest constricting in on itself. He almost felt like a fish out of water, like he couldn’t get in a breath. “A--the Turtle told me! He told me, and he showed me you, dead, and you, and you,” Mike pointed to Adrian and then to Eddie, “He said that there are things that should be and things that shouldn’t be and things that are and I’m the only one who can save you but  _ how _ am I supposed to save you? I spent thirty years trying to find the solution, so you’d all come back, so I--so I wouldn’t die lonely and I  _ failed _ . I failed to uphold my end of the bargain and--”

“Mike, Mike, honey,” Patty said, taking over for Stan, “Sit down. Sit.”

Mike collapsed into a chair, mouth snapping shut. Patty kneeled in front of him, holding his hands, and looking him in the eyes.

“I haven’t known you for long,” Patty said, “But you saved Stan. And you saved Adrian. You  _ saved _ them and even if you can’t save everybody, even if you can’t save anybody else, you prevented two people from dying. And that’s amazing. I don’t know what I would do with myself if Stan--if he--”

Patty took a breath. “Anyway. You are certainly not to blame for doing what you thought was right. A plan that probably won’t work is better than no plan at all, and if it helps Stan sleep at night, I would kill that clown myself.”

Patty looked back up at him, and Mike felt his breathing slow. There was a beat where everything was quiet except for Mike’s panting, and then he could think again and it was like he was free.

“Thank you,” Mike said, “I--I’m sorry about that. I just--I guess I’ve been building this up so much and now it’s not what I expected.”

Mike shrugged and looked around. “Where’d Richie and Bev go?”

“Tuh-to help Eddie with his fuh-face wound,” Bill said, “You nuh-know, the one he guh-got because Buh-Buh-Bowers fucking  _ st-stabbed _ him?”

“I think I was too busy freaking out,” Mike replied dryly, “How about we go check on them and head out?”

Everyone seemed more than ready to leave the Townhouse behind.

  
  
  
  


The fair was even more packed than it was the previous night. Jenny, perched on Mike’s shoulders this time, munched on some cotton candy as she looked for the boy.

“Hih!” She cried, mouth stuffed full, pointing at a little boy with straw-colored hair who was tagging along with a group of much older kids.

They snuck closer, catching the tail end of a conversation. “-cause Mom made me bring you, doesn’t mean you get to tag along and annoy the fuck out of us! Get fucking lost.”

The boy stayed as an older girl and her friends marched away. He looked like he was trying very hard not to cry, and he stomped away towards the funhouse.

“Don’t go in there!” Bill cried, standing between the boy and the funhouse, “It’s--it’s--it’s scary! It’s tuh-tuh-too sca-scary fuh-for--”

“What the fuck, man?” The kid looked in Bill’s eyes, “I’m nine! I’m not a pussy!”

He pushed past Bill and kept walking towards the entrance to the funhouse. When Bill started walking after him, he ran past the entrance, and Bill followed closely. The entire group ran after him, through the tunnels and into the mirror maze.

“Fuck,” Bill swore, chasing the kid with his hands outstretched, looking for the way forward, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--”

Mike caught a glimpse of the clown. The lights flickered, and the little boy ran into a mirror. Or glass. Or something. He was surrounded, Mike realized with a little thrum of terror, as they all found the end of the corridor Bill was in. There was just one pane of glass separating them and the boy.

Pennywise licked the glass on the other side of him. Mike thought back to his dream, and he retched a little. Bill started banging on the glass, and so did Pennywise, both of them trying to reach the boy.

Mike joined in, shoulder to the glass, slamming into it as roughly as his body would let him. He didn’t stop when it started hurting, fully aware of how bruised he was going to be tomorrow. Pennywise’s glass started to crack and Bev joined in, slamming her purse into the glass. The glass splintered around something sharp that had wormed its way through the fabric of Bev’s purse, and then they beat It, their glass wall falling down. Bill picked up the boy, holding him away from the spray of glass as Pennywise broke through his own window.

“It feeds on fear!” Bill yelled as Pennywise bit down on empty space.

“Fuck you!” Bev screamed, throwing stuff from the inside of her purse at Pennywise’s face. She picked up some of the glass on the ground, the biggest pieces, and threw them into Pennywise’s gaping mouth. She never missed when she wanted to hit something, and she still apparently had quite the throw, because it landed in Pennywise’s mouth just as he lunged forward and tried to bite down on Bill’s leg.

It whimpered, slithering backwards into the oblivion behind the mirror maze. They all stood there, breathing heavily. Jenny burst into tears.

“Mommy, that was scary,” She said, voice barely a whisper. Bev picked her up and held her close, letting Jenny wrap her entire body around her.

“I know, sweetheart,” Bev’s hand petted the back of Jenny’s head, “Let’s get out of here.”

The boy was absolutely silent as they walked out of the mirror maze.

“I would have died, wouldn’t I?” He asked when they exited. “If you hadn’t found me?”

Bill nodded, quiet.

“Bad things have been happening in this town,” Stan explained, “Since the beginning of time. But sometimes, these regular bad things build up and that--that clown. It embodies all the evil that resides here. It comes around every twenty-seven years like clockwork and it kills people.”

“Oh,” The little boy said, a bit shell-shocked. 

“What’s your name?” Bev asked, sitting down on the stairs to the exit of the funhouse. The boy sat down too.

“James,” He said.

“I’m Beverly Marsh,” Bev said, “This is Jenny. That’s Mike, Stan, and Patty. And that’s Bill Denbrough.”

“Woah!” James’ eyes glowed, “The author?”

“I dabble in writing,” Bill said, flashing a small grin, “So, am I forgiven for chasing you into a funhouse?”

James nodded. “Can you help me find my sister? We were supposed to leave before it got dark.”

They did look, but they couldn’t find her. Bill got James and Jenny ice creams. They drove James back to his house, but the lights were off.

“I don’t feel safe,” James admitted, refusing to leave the car. Bill glanced over to the passenger seat, where Mike was sitting, and Mike looked right back at him, seeing all the way through him.

“You can stay with us for the night,” Bill relented, “But I’m leaving my phone number on the door so they can find you.”

Bill took out a notebook from the glove compartment and wrote a note on it.

_ James was left at the fair alone, and when we drove him back the lights were off and nobody was home. Call or text me. He’s safe and in good hands. _

He slipped it under the door and walked back out to the car, driving back to the Townhouse. When they walked inside, there was no sign that Bowers had ever been there. There wasn’t even a blood stain. Piano music filled the Townhouse again.

  
  
  
  


Ben’s group arrived at the park near the outskirts of town just as the sun touched down on the horizon. There were a few games that night, one tee ball, one soccer, one softball. 

“I hate to say this,” Ben said, “But I think we need to split up some more. There’s five of us. The soccer game is the least crowded, so I’ll go there alone. Richie and Don can cover the tee ball game, and Eddie and Adrian can take the soccer game.”

Everyone seemed to protest that, but Ben spoke up again. “Rich, Eddie, they’re kids. I can’t in good conscience send them to fight Pennywise on their own. We have to stay there for the whole game, or until someone tells you otherwise.”

Richie huffed. “Fine. But I don’t know how you expect me to stop a small child from getting fucking eaten.”

“You have talked your way into every situation you have ever been in, talk yourself into this one too,” Ben snapped, “And don’t leave until you see the girl leave alive and well.”

The stakeout was mostly uneventful, with all of them feeling sufficiently creepy sitting on the benches just beyond the playing fields and waiting.

“So,” Don asked Richie, “How long have you and Eddie been together?”

Richie sputtered. “I--we’re not--shut your goddamn trap, kid.”

“Wow, you really are old,” Don rolled his eyes, “Anyway, sucks to suck, man, but it’s a whole lot better for everyone if you get off your ass and ask him out.”

“He’s not into that and he has a wife,” Richie grumbled, “So don’t start.”

“Oh, he’s  _ into _ that,” Don said, examining the field, “He reminds me so much of Adrian it’s impossible he’s straight.”

“Maybe not, but he still has a  _ wife _ and I’m not about to try and be a homewrecker,” Richie said, “Anyway, I don’t have the figure for that. Too many beers in college.”

“Who says you have to be attrac-- _ hang on _ \--” Don’s eyes spotted something, an arm disappearing beneath the bleachers, “Fuck! You distracted us.”

Richie was up like a shot, moving as quietly as possible until he was under the bleachers, “You started it.”

“Bet,” Don followed, flashlight shining until they found a little girl chasing a firefly.

“Hey!” Richie called after her, “It’s dangerous! The bleachers could fall down! Get out!”

The little girl looked at Richie and promptly ran away from him, further from the outside world. Richie and Don chased her, hurdling the bars of the bleachers, until they were all stopped in their tracks. The clown was standing there, imperial and towering, drool pouring from his mouth.

“I have gone…  _ hungry _ !” It roared, baring its fangs, “I will feed tonight! I will  _ feed _ !”

The girl scrambled backwards, until she hit Don’s legs. Without a second thought, Don shielded her, moving between her and the clown. Pennywise roared.

“I smell it, the most delicious fear,” It crowed, “Richard Tozier, yours was always so--tantalizing. So unique. Your  _ secret _ , the one you’ll be buried with, the one--”

“I’m gay!” Richie yelled, silencing the clown, “I’m gay, you stupid fucking clown! There! It’s not a fucking secret any more! I’m not ashamed of it!”

The clown flinched, roaring loud enough to make them all jump. It seemed to regain its composure, though, and it said, “You’re still afraid. Of what they’ll say. Of what  _ he’ll _ say--”

“Fuck you!” Richie threw a rock at the clown, turning and starting to run. He picked up the little girl and carried her away, not even looking back because he could hear Don right behind him.

“Your parents won’t believe you,” Richie said, setting her down, “It’s--it’s just how grown-ups are in Derry. Try to go home and get some sleep, okay? And remember to be careful. That clown is never your friend.”

The girl nodded. Richie ruffled her hair and sent her on her way before he completely lost it, throwing up into a trash can.

“Is that just your default defense mechanism?” Don asked, hesitantly patting Richie on the back.

Richie wiped his mouth. “That’s what happens when you pull too many benders. Especially when you start to mix in things besides alcohol. You body starts to expel stuff easier and--it’s not pretty. I don’t enjoy it.”

“Let’s go collect the others, huh?” Don said, leading Richie over to where Eddie and Adrian were sitting.

“We got her,” Richie sighed, “Let’s get back to the Townhouse.”

They collected Ben and headed back, finding the group plus a little boy waiting for them.

“Are you starting a collection?” Richie asked Bill. “Furthermore, how the  _ fuck _ are we going to divvy up rooms tonight?”

“Hey!” Bev said indignantly, “We’re not in a life-threatening situation right now, keep the swear words to a minimum.”

“Righty-O, govna,” Richie said. They did eventually get rooms figured out, with Don and Adrian sleeping on the floor of Eddie’s room, with Richie taking his bed too. James and Jenny shared a bed, Bill crashed with Stan and Patty again, and Mike and Ben shared the couch bed. Bev was the only one who had a bed to herself, and she looked like she was enjoying it, passing out first spread-eagle on top of the covers.

Mike took pity on her. “C’mon, let’s get you settled.”

Ben helped take her shoes off and she didn’t stir, so they didn’t try to move her and just covered her with the spare blanket. They tucked Jenny and James in.

“Sleep well, okay?” Ben smiled at them. Mike wondered if Ben had ever considered becoming a parent.

Ben and Mike curled up together on the couch bed because they’d given their blanket to Bev. Mike stared at Ben’s face, which grew a faint blush the longer he looked.

“You’re really great with kids,” Mike whispered.

Ben smiled, bright and happy. “You are too.”

And then they were kissing. It was light and comfortable and sleepy, and something in Mike felt like it was home.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Ben said, still looking across Mike’s expression for any signs of hesitation. Mike hummed, kissing him again and drawing him in closer. They both ran warm, so they didn’t feel too uncomfortable without a blanket, but Mike wasn’t used to falling asleep that close to someone. It was alarming how fast Ben’s steady breathing lulled him to sleep.

  
  
  
  


Mike was running from something. It was big and its nails screeched on the ground where they dug in. He found himself falling into the clubhouse, interrupting the things everyone else had going on.

They eyed him with something like annoyance. Not quite hatred, not quite indifference. Mike didn’t like it.

“You’ve gotta help me!” Mike cried, begging them, “There’s something after me! It was chasing me and I--”

“Really? You want us to help you?” Stan sucked in a breath through his teeth, “What have you ever done for us?”

Mike’s heart fell. “I--”

“That’s right, nothing!” Stan suddenly looked older, “You called us back here to die and we were just supposed to come like sheep to the slaughter and  _ help _ you!”

“No! No, please,” Mike felt tears roll down his face.

Richie looked older now, too. “You’re just an outsider, Mike. We were always just humoring you. I thought you’d see that at some point? Just. Just go away.”

“We’re Losers,” Mike tried, voice cracking. Mike was the only one who was thirteen, they all towered over him, teeth sharp and eyes glowing and--

  
  
  
  
  


Mike sat up, awake, panting. To his horror, his face was still wet.

“Are you alright?” Ben asked, still laying down, half-asleep.

Mike nodded, gulping in air, trying to tell himself that they didn’t hate him, they didn’t. Mike laid down, back to Ben. He felt Ben scoot closer, wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ben asked softly. Mike realized the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

Mike shook his head. Ben was nice. He’d try to understand, but he was accepted into the group without a second thought.

“Mikey,” Ben sighed, pressing a kiss to Mike’s shoulder. It was horribly tender, and it almost made him break.

Mike turned around, burying his face in Ben’s shirt and letting out a sob. Ben held him, comforting him.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Ben said softly, “You’re safe, whatever it is, it can’t hurt you.”

Mike nodded, calming down a little. “It was awful.”

“Tell me about it,” Ben prompted, hand on the side of Mike’s face.

“I had a dream where--where you all hated me,” Mike let out a shaky breath, “You all basically told me to get lost. It was kind of a bummer.” He laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“We would never ever hurt you like that,” Ben shook his head, thumb rubbing Mike’s hair just above his ear, “Okay? We all love you so much, Mikey.”

Mike nodded, eyes squeezing shut. “Thank you.”

“I’m not saying that to help you,” Ben said, pressing a kiss to Mike’s temple, “I’m saying that ‘cuz it’s true.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” Mike said, relishing in the affection.

Ben hummed. “Try to get some more sleep, okay? Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.”

“I wish it wouldn’t,” Mike said, and he meant it. He wished more than anything that this was just a reunion, he wished they weren’t in any danger, that they were just reliving their childhoods, trying to find the good memories again.

“Don’t we all?” Ben laughed a little, pulling Mike in closer. Mike snuggled in, trying desperately to sleep again. Consciousness faded slowly, this time, but he was still rocked asleep by Ben’s breathing.

He didn’t dream, which he counted as a mercy.

  
  
  
  


The morning dawned grey and grim, rain pelting the roof and drowning out the music in the lounge. The breakfast buffet was still out, steaming and warm and surprisingly good, considering it was a complimentary breakfast buffet.

“Today’s the duh-day,” Bill said, almost serene, “We have to kill it today.”

Mike nodded. Nobody else looked pleased with that notion.

“So, what. We just go back to Neibolt house and wait? Are we supposed to try and draw it out?” Stan asked, cutting up some French toast.

“I think we should all get the hell out of Dodge,” Richie posited, “And forget all about this forever, but stick together so we don’t forget each other.”

“Rich,” Bill sighed, “Thu-that’s not going tuh-to happen. You nuh-know that.”

Richie sighed, then stuffed a whole piece of Stan’s French toast into his mouth. Stan looked pissed about it, but didn’t try to stop him. Growing up, Richie would always take food off Stan’s plate, and he always let him, and old habits die hard.

“You mean we actually have to go into the Neibolt house?” Adrian asked, bug-eyed, “I thought we could just like. Light something on fire and call it a day.”

“Unfortunately not,” Mike said, shaking his head, “Killing It, I think, is going to involve a lot of facing your fears.”

“The biggest thing is believing,” Bev spoke up, “That’s what worked last time. If you believe something kills monsters, it does.”

“Like the silver slugs,” Eddie said, “When we fought this thing for the first time, we were thirteen, and we found some silver rocks by the quarry, and Richie had this slingshot and Bev was a perfect shot--”

“Don’t flatter me,” Bev grinned, “So. What about the kids? What are we doing with them?”

“I’m coming!” Jenny proclaimed, “I want to go on an adventure!”

“It’s not… an adventure like you think it is,” Bev warned, “I think the best thing would be for Don and Adrian to take the kids and stay as far away from Neibolt as possible.”

The older adults all nodded, but Don, Adrian, and the kids all looked offended. “We can handle ourselves!” Adrian insisted.

“This is going to be dangerous,” Stan said, “Too dangerous. I think Bev’s right. Get past the town lines, go to McDonald’s or a library or something for a few hours. Look, here’s my credit card--”

“After all that, you’re just going to send us away?” Don gritted his teeth, “We helped you.”

“And we’re thankful for that, really,” Mike tried to placate them, “But we mean it. You could get hurt. You could die. And I don’t know if I can live with that.”

“Take my rental,” Richie said, passing the keys over, “Go get yourselves a warm dinner that’s not a breakfast buffet. Get some Chinese food or something. But leave Derry. Leave the fucking county. Hell, go to Portland! There’s plenty of good restaurants in Portland. Get somewhere safe, please.”

Don softened a little. “Remember what I told you, old man?”

“I’ll do it if you leave,” Richie said, “You’re not being a coward for taking the kids. You’re helping us again. You’re giving us a leg up and helping us defeat It.”

Don looked down at the keys and the credit card, and he sighed. “Okay. We’ll go to Portland and get a fancy lunch and dinner and go to the movies.”

“Don?” Adrian looked over at his boyfriend, confused.

“Just--trust me,” Don smiled back apologetically, “They need us to do this.”

Adrian thought for a moment, and nodded. They stood up, taking the kids with them. At first, James and Jenny looked a little distraught, but they were easily distracted by the promise of Frozen Two.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Richie said, “There’s no point in waiting around for It to come and get us. Plus I don’t want to give It the opportunity to get to the kids.”

With that, they all steeled themselves and piled into Stan’s rental and Bill’s car.

The house was still looming, still imposing, impossibly large. All the things that were once alive in the yard were yellow and decaying. The house smelled of rot.

“Well,” Bill said, “I think Richie said it best.”

“You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” Richie took a fence post and armed himself with it.

Bill looked at him, unamused.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown?” Richie grinned at him, extending a hand. Bill brought him in for a hug, brief and tight.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown!” Bill cried, and the others repeated it to him like a war cry.

Bev handed Eddie a fencepost of his own. “Remember, Eddie. This kills monsters, if you believe it does.”

“This kills monsters,” Eddie said back, trying to internalize it. He gawked at the Neibolt house, marching inside with his friends. They were eight strong, and even though they didn’t have a plan, they felt this sense of finality.

Stan paused at the entrance, trembling. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t, and for a moment he thought the others would leave him like last time. Richie was cracking jokes, but nobody was paying attention to him.

Mike turned around. “Guys.”

Everyone stopped and turned to Stan, who looked like he was about to cry. Richie shut up for once in his life.

“Babylove,” Patty said, caressing Stan’s face, “You’re going to be okay. We’re all here for you, we’re all here to protect you. Nothing will hurt you as long as I can help it.”

Stan nodded, and Patty stood on her toes to kiss his forehead. She guided him back to the group, where he was put in the center as they walked forward. They proceeded slowly, only pausing when Bill got distracted by a flash of yellow.

“It’s not real,” Mike warned, and Bill took a shaky breath in and out.

They eventually made it to the basement without much incident. The house didn’t even try to fight back. It just laid there, quiet and rotten. The rope to the passageway was affixed still to the ceiling.

“We have to climb down there, don’t we?” Patty asked, her facade of bravery falling.

Richie sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Believe it or not, the house is probably the best part of this whole thing.”

They all climbed down the rope, with Patty going last.

“I’m scared, guys!” She called, stepping out and clutching the rope so hard it hurt her hands.

“Just go down one knot at a time!” Bev yelled back to her, “It’s a lot easier than your mind makes it out to be!”

Patty looked up, almost like she was praying. She released her thighs’ grip on the rope and screamed when they slid down to the next knot.

“You did it!” Stan said, “You can do it again, honey, just do one more!”

Patty did, again, releasing and sliding faster and faster until she was at the entrance to the sewers. Stan and Bev helped her leap into the entryway. She hugged Stan tightly.

“I did it!” She squealed. Stan grinned and buried his face in her neck.

Stan’s voice was muffled when he spoke. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I’m proud of you too, Beef Patty, but we really should get going,” Richie said, shining a light into the sewers, “Eddie Spaghetti, lead us the way!”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie grumbled as he started walking deeper into the sewers. They walked for a long time--but not longer than the first--before Eddie brought them, with all the confidence in the world, to the room where the bodies floated.

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” Patty breathed.

“I know, right?” Richie looked back at her, “It’s like… just--yeah, you summed it up perfectly.”

Mike was the first one to start wading through the water. Eddie made Stan keep his arms above his head, even though Stan was perfectly capable of holding them above the water. They approached what looked like a manhole cover, all of them standing on it.

“Am I the only one who feels a little let down?” Bev said, arms across her chest, “Like--last time we were in here we all saw shit. Pennywise did more to stop us than just trying to distract Bill. Do you think he’s… tired?”

“I haven’t seen anyone dead or missing on the news,” Mike said, “I think he’s  _ hungry _ and tired. I think we really need to be careful from here on out.”

They all lifted the manhole cover, climbing down into a cave system. Once again, Eddie was given the lead, and he didn’t take them down a single dead end.

The eventually found the chamber where Pennywise had landed.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Richie and Patty said at the same time. Richie offered her a high-five, and she glared at him.

“A long time ago,” Mike breathed, “The native people here recorded a meteor striking down on earth. But it brought something with it.”

They saw It, then, huge and lumbering towards them. It looked like a spider and a crab had a baby, and then drank some magic growth potion, which was not a great combination.

“Do you think it can see us?” Richie whispered. It’s head snapped towards them, and it began to scramble towards them. Bev drew her hand back and threw the fencepost, which hit Pennywise in the side of the face. It snarled, drawing its teeth back.

“You’re a dumb bitch!” Patty yelled, “You tried to kill my husband!”

Patty threw her fencepost, and it sailed right through It’s teeth. Richie whooped.

“Sloppy! Uneducated! Disgusting!” Richie jeered, throwing another fencepost. Eddie was the only one who still had a post. Something curious happened, though. Pennywise shrank, physically got smaller.

“Guys! I think we just have to bully It to death!” Richie said, breath stuttering, “Is it really that easy? You couldn’t even kill two little kids and all it takes is some mean words to kill you?”

Pennywise whimpered, withdrawing more. “I am the eater of worlds! I am the infinite! You can’t kill me!”

“Try me, motherfucker!” Eddie yelled, “My mother thought she was pretty goddamn infinite too, and look where she is now!”

It lashed out, claw scraping by the Losers’ heads. They all ducked.

“You can’t even kill a couple of idiot losers!” Ben screamed. Pennywise flinched back further, retreating into the spikes of rock that had formed where it had landed.

They found it surprisingly easy to make fun of the clown, growing more and more confident as they chased it into a corner.

Eddie, riding an adrenaline high so intense he was completely without fear for the first time in his life, stepped forward and speared Pennywise straight through the heart. There was a bright burst of light and then Eddie screamed.

“If I cannot have fear…” Pennywise rasped, drawing in heaving breaths, “Then… pain will have to do.”

Eddie’s hands landed on one of Pennywise’s limbs, which, although it was markedly smaller than it had been originally, was still skewering him all the way through.

“I’m not… I’m not afraid of you,” Eddie spat, hatred bubbling up inside him, “Fuck you, man. Fuck you!”

Pennywise withdrew its talons and curled up like a dead spider. Eddie collapsed and Mike stepped forward to rip the fencepost out of Pennywise’s chest and stab him again, and again, and again. Everyone watched, except Richie, who kneeled in front of Eddie, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Guys! Help!” Richie pleaded, hands pressed over Eddie’s wound. Mike couldn’t hear him--he just kept going to town on Pennywise’s chest--but Bill approached him and gently touched his shoulder.

“It’s dead, Mikey,” Bill said softly, hugging Mike and drawing him away.

Richie did not take that as a good sign. “He’s--guys! Eddie’s hurt!”

Eddie looked very pale, and the blood pooling out from the wound looked very… a lot. Mike jumped, the reality of the situation coming crashing down around him.

“Ben! Help me get him!” Mike said, picking Eddie up behind his shoulders. Ben got his feet, and they made their way back to the entrance of the cave. The only problem was, their navigator was down.

“Eds! Eds, you gotta help, you gotta stay with me,” Richie begged, “I forgot to tell you! Don made me promise and I forgot and I--”

“Rich, calm down,” Eddie said, coughing, “‘m not going anywhere.”

“Thank God,” Richie let out a breath, “Can you tell us where we’re supposed to be going?”

“Tunnel on the left,” Eddie said, “What did you want to tell me?”

“I--Eds--”

“He loves you,” Stan rolled his eyes, “And you love him, and if you kiss right now I’m going to kill you because this cavern is dangerously unstable.”

As if on cue, a deep rumbling came from the direction they were leaving from. They hurried, all silent except Richie, who was prompting Eddie to make sure he was still awake every five seconds.

“I just want to sleep,” Eddie whined after the fiftieth time Richie asked him if he was still there.

Richie grew a little hysterical. “No, Eds, you can’t sleep, not now--c’mon, you can sleep later, you just have to stay awake for a little bit, c’mon--hurry!”

They somehow managed to get Eddie up to the surface, just as the corner of Neibolt Street collapsed in on itself, becoming a mass of untilled land again.

“It’s gone,” Ben breathed, tears in his eyes. Richie was already on his phone, calling emergency services, but the others were staring in awe of what used to be a place of nightmares. Their hair was dirty and they were all shaking and a little beat up but, considering the circumstances, it could have been a lot worse.

The ambulance arrived and they were quickly taken care of.

“There’s a cave system below what… used to be the house at the end of Neibolt Street,” Mike lied effortlessly, “We used to go spelunking all the time when we were kids and I guess it just didn’t hold up any more.”

Eddie was safe and sound in his hospital bed, and they were all clean, and they were all safe. The veil had been lifted, Jenny and James had been returned to their parents.

Eddie kissed Richie the second he woke up from surgery. It was still a little gross and Eddie’s mouth tasted like hospital smell, but it was perfect.

“Fuck that clown,” Richie said, “And fuck that turtle too, while we’re at it. This was the only thing that was ever supposed to happen, ever.”

Eddie laughed, but he couldn’t help agreeing.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is bevpegs please follow me (also if you want to talk or beta this fic please dm me or send me an ask i take writing prompts) also please leave a kudos and comments if you enjoyed it!


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